Under The Surface
by Silver Orbed Lioness
Summary: AU Goblet of Fire onwards: Lucius Malfoy takes advantage of both his Ministry position and School Governor by seducing Hermione as his mistress before the Dark Lord arrives to ruin his fun - only, due to this, Severus comes to realise he cares for the girl in a most unorthodox way possible. What will happen to her when the Dark Lord returns?
1. Going Under

**Under the surface**

Now I will tell you what I've done for you - **  
**50 thousand tears I've cried. **  
**Screaming, deceiving and bleeding for you - **  
**And you still won't hear me - (Evanescence: Going Under)

 **Going Under**

Stretch up. Bend down. Twist. Bend hamstring right. Hamstring left. Now hold up your sorry excuse for hair and put your bag by your feet. Enjoy and test the water. Such a beautiful lake. Hermione sighed, as she saw a pair of swans glide in the rippling silver surface. Such a scene of perfect union. Though swans were vicious creatures really. Beauty and grace on the water but frantically paddling underneath. The one thing she did like about swans were that they mated for life. The sun was up and she decided to lift her face to it.

"What are you doing?" a voice behind her said.

Not showing signs of cringing Hermione opened her eyes and glared at the face of number two prat: Draco Malfoy. "Enjoying some peace and quiet before the match, as if I should explain myself to you."

"So, the Weasley's give you a headache do they?" Draco scoffed. It seemed as if his sneer was half-hearted. "Not surprised."

"No," she said without a hint of sarcasm. Be polite, Hermione, her father always said. Remember, FIRE is doused by water. Be as calm as Lake Windermere. "Having five different conversations go on in one tent is a bit much," she even smiled. Like they were friends, "especially as I am only used to having one scientifically based debate between three people."

"Oh yeah, your parents!" Draco sighed, thrusting his hands in his pockets. "What do they do for you to be able buy things?" here he shifted around and was contemplating sitting next to her but he did not wish to get his trousers dirty.

"Dentists."

"What are they?"

"Teeth healers," was her short response. "Children hate them. Muggles have a fear of them," she added. Not in the mood to discuss anything to do with her parent's line of work. In truth, she wished that they were Librarians or Lawyers. "Sort of like as Dark Arts as muggles get within respectability." She came here to be alone with her thoughts. Why was Draco making kind conversation. "What are you doing here?"

"I was walking to get a drink from the Marquee," Oh gods, Granger, you're hot. No Potty Measle around to jump down my throat. I have no one around, what is to stop me from joining her? Or, even better, finally find a better use for that mouth and her hands go up and... Stop there, Draco. "That only the privileged gets to go to," he said without hint of malice. Be shocking once in your life, Draco. Ask her out! He opened his mouth to try and see if she wanted to come.

Hermione furrowed her brow silently opening her mouth to retort something nasty about where she could stick his privileges. A crystal clear, hard as diamonds, voice cut into their first somewhat normal tête-à-tête. "What have I said, Draco?" it said. Immediately, she felt the change. The air crackled between father and son. Wow, she thought, Draco flinched...

Enter stage right, prat number one: King of Krill. Earl of Eels. Lord of Leeches. Sir of Snakes: Lucius Malfoy. "Play nicely, Father," Draco sighed. Pity rose in Hermione's heart. He was playing nicely. There was no sneer. Leer. Jest. In fact, if Draco wanted to stay, she'd have let him. "But..."

"He was actually being civilised," Hermione interrupted. Deciding, in that minute, to defend Draco. Was she mistaken or did Draco flash a warning shot in his eyes as if to stop her from perturbing his father.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione looked ahead trying to observe the tranquil lake before her, in an effort to ignore the boy and the man behind her. "I do hope my son was not pestering you, Miss Granger," he smirked at her narrowed eyes. There was something wonderful about the untried Gryffindor, he sighed. A real Wizard was in order for her. "Or boring you?"

"It was just a question," Hermione said. Secretly, she _had_ wanted a proper talk with Draco for awhile. Try to find out his real heart. Certainly not to date him but she could not help but think Draco was more than he appeared. More than his Father would _allow_ him to be. "I answered. It's called small talk."

Maybe wearing the mid-length green and silver tartan skirt was a bad idea! Though her mother treated her to a proper leg wax a few days ago. It was deliciously hot and she wanted the sun's rays to lick her skin. She could wear what she damn well wanted. Why did Lucius make her feel she should be wearing a suit of armour. What had possessed her to try this skirt on in the shop? Even more so to persuade her mother to purchase it. It was not the length, or the pattern. It was the colour. Green and Silver. "I was seeking tranquillity."

She must have been unconsciously stroking her leg causing both Malfoy's to finally notice her skirt because what Lucius said next shocked her: "Green and Silver, Miss Granger?" she could feel the arched eyebrow burn into her cheek.

Lowering her head, Hermione tried to hide her blush. Pulling the skirt at the hem, as far down as she could, to hide her thighs. "If I could have charmed it red and gold I can assure you," here she looked the elder Malfoy right in the eye, "I would have."

"That blouse is rather tight too," supremely tight, Lucius licked his lips. Salaciously, see through, showing how wonderful her breasts were. Not even in a proper bra."Is it not?"

Suck it, Malfoy. Hermione seethed: "It fits!" she snapped.

"Yes," Mr Malfoy conceded. "It fits," with a sigh he allowed his hooded eyes to observe how her frame breathed within. "I would venture to guess it was designed with you specifically in mind."

What the hell? Was Lucius Malfoy feeling her up with his eyes? Huffing as she stood up Hermione lifted her bag up: "I guess I ought to find another spot for solitude then," she turned around and saw Lucius blue eyes twinkling. "Where there are no prying eyes."

"We were just leaving," Lucius said not taking his eyes away from her hips. Why did she feel the need for Gryffindor's sword? "Come, Draco, allow Miss Granger her peace."

"I really want…" Draco objected.

Exasperation showed in Lucius eyes: "It is always about what you want, is it not, Draco?"

If she felt braver she would have grabbed hold of Draco's hand urging him to stay. It was not fair, Draco sighed. For the first time he was bordering on civil to her and he would have sat and talked about the upcoming year if his father had not showed up. Sulking, Draco walked up to his father.

Placing a jewelled hand on his son's shoulder Lucius tilted his head further up to her waist. Out of her school uniform she's delectable indeed. So young. Freshly ripened."Enjoy the beautiful view, Miss Granger," Lucius winked as he turned Draco around. "As I most certainly have."

With that they left the glen together. Lucius stopped suddenly when they had turned the corner. Squeezing Draco's shoulder Lucius smile definitely did reach his gaze. Now was his opportunity. "You go to the Marquee," he said. "I need to see to something," Lucius gaze rested on the corner they had just walked around. Draco saw his Father lick his lips. "It is highly sensitive."

Highly Sensitive? Draco was sceptical at the best of times. See to something? Draco ground his teeth together. "Is it _that_ important?"

Winking, Lucius patted his son on the shoulder: "Something that needs to be done, that is all."

As much as he adored his father, Draco knew when he was a man on the prowl. The look in his eyes told all. The tone conveyed everything. Draco actually felt sorry for whomever his father had chosen as his prey and he had a bloody good idea who it was. The girl had best have strong defences. Did anybody against his dad? "Can I help?" he asked. Hoping he could step in. Prove he could be a hero after all.

"This is a task for a man," his father winked again and smirked. "Just go and have fun, Draco. I suggest Miss Weasley,"shocked, Draco glanced into his father's eyes: "She still is purity, Draco," he chuckled. "Go!"

And risk Potter breathing down my neck every time he has an opportunity? No one needed a seer or prophecy to tell the world Ginny Weasley was going to be Ginny Potter one day. The only other playmate would have been Hermione - and it seemed his Father decided on a game with two players.

With that Lucius turned on his heel and walked back. Leaving Draco in a quandary. Should he follow his father? Something to be done, Draco leered. More likely he was doing someone. Someone who looked incredibly good dressed up as a Slytherin. Should I try and get a message to Potter? Then again if Harry _did_ show up to defend his friend's honour, that would be something Draco _would_ hear about from his father! No choice but to leave Granger to be seduced. She would be. If Draco got what he wanted it was because he learned from the best. Damn him, Draco gritted his teeth, I wanted to try that.

"Now the Nazi prats have gone," Hermione sighed. It had taken all her willpower to gather the courage to do this. Leaning on a tree root Hermione stood up. Barefoot for awhile now, Hermione decided to brave it, no time like the present. Reaching around her waist she fiddled with the emerald green button, popped it open where the flap revealed a tease of hip. Another, larger black button hidden in the band, secured the skirt tightly around her hip. Not any more. Deftly, she hooked her fingers over the band of the skirt and released that button. Allowing the garment to fall in a heap at her feet. The blouse next. Yes, it was a bit form fitting; but she did not have a form to fit it too. Shrugging her shoulders as she thought of Lucius Malfoy's twinkle. What he said: Designed for you, he was flirting with her. In front of his son. Could someone _really_ be that arrogant?

No, Hermione shook her head, that way lies madness. The fake pearl buttons were harder to undo but she did not fancy a scrabble in the mud to find them if she just… "Who's there?" she asked as she thought she heard a twig crunch beneath someone's foot. "Hello?" Must have imagined it, hanging around with Harry Potter does that to you. "Fine," she said. " _Now, now, Draco, play nicely_!" she mimicked Lucius. "Good grief, he was not being horrible, for a change, in fact if things were different I probably would have fancied him like mad, I almost did, once."

Methodically, she looped each button out of her crisp white blouse carefully. Shrugging it off hurriedly as she could not wait for what she planned to do. Closing her eyes, she stood at the edge of the lake, dipping her toes in the soothing cool water. Displaying nothing more than a strappy lilac bikini, Hermione felt strangely emancipated. The scent of wet earth, in the strong summer heat, made her shiver in pleasure. Putting her feet together, bending her knees, stretching arms up for one last warm up - Hermione found a tree root sturdy enough to support her for what she wished to do.

Bend back. Hold arms up straight, (hah, that was at least one thing she could do). Curve body. Legs straight. Tip toes. Launch. In one graceful movement - well, she hoped it was graceful: she found immediate pleasure as her head hit the water. Breast stroking underwater was so relaxing. Eventually, Hermione swam up to the surface, right where the sun's ray fell on her sinewy form. There, she wallowed a little in the water, allowing the gentle lapping to bewitch her mind and take over her skin.

Recapturing her breath, Hermione decided to bob back under the surface to swim back to the shore. Surprisingly, she spotted an alcove to rest in. Not caring if she got mucky. This was probably the most un-Hermione she had felt in her entire life. For one moment she could forget about everything. Magic, muggles, Harry. Just close her eyes and remember that she is a human being.

Godric's teeth, she sighed, resting her head back. The water is so hot and comforting. Normally that would have sent her brain in a frenzy asking questions. If one thing her friendship with Ron and Harry taught her, you have to relax when the opportunity presented itself, and she was prepared to do just that!

"Hakuna Matata," she breathed. "What a wonderful phrase," settling heavily into the calming, silently, lapping waters, "Hakuna Matata, it means no worries," shifting position and moaning as she was clearly imagining some Italian stud screwing her senseless. Lucius waited to hear whom his rival was: "for the rest of your days, it's a problem... oh yes," Hermione rolled her head. No, she was not pleasuring herself, as her arms were curved around the ledge of the alcove. Rather, the little woman was allowing her sensuality bring her to that orgasmic high! "free, philo-sssso-phy," she hissed the s in the word so huskily Lucius felt a decided twitch in his boxers as he imagined that same hiss being ripped from her mouth as he rent her assunder in passions embrace. "Hakuna Matata," she dunked her head again under the water, "Hakuna Matata and," she arched her back as if a hand was touching her core. "High _Cock_ alorum," she giggled dirtily. That was it, Lucius was determined. No other Wizard was to have this Witch but him. If he so much as saw a Muggle touch her that Muggle would be fried beyond oblivion, "High COCKALORUM!" she yelled. How could the Witch achieve that without touching her body and without the use of Magic? Later, Lucius, you are a willing pupil too. With a sigh, Hermione relaxed again: "High Cockalorum, indeed!" Laying her head against the curve in the bank Lucius could see she was panting, glowing and happy. Could it be that the mudblood bookworm was hiding an extremely sensual, erotic side? "I just hope," she sighed, "no one saw that. Least of all that Nazi son of a bitch!"

On the shore, Lucius watched from a good vantage point as she shed her clothes. Appreciating how she filled out. More to come but she was so close to age he did not care. Besides, it would be her word against his, though he would make sure she had nothing to complain about. He saw how his son was looking at her. Did he really think that someone as sinewy and beautiful as Hermione Granger would be interested in him? Besides, he smirked, there was such immense satisfaction that almost made him aroused at the thought; it will be delightful to have Harry Potter's right hand woman as his own Mudblood Mistress.

Impressed by her elegant descent into the water, as there was barely a ripple on the surface, Lucius waited until she bobbed up to see how she looked wet. Oh yes, he smiled. Now I have to protect this glade somehow so no one spies her. Dear Hermione, you will be mine to enjoy, taste and savour. Quietly, with a wave of the hand, Lucius cast a cloaking charm from a few feet behind him to a few feet all around the lake. Also, he made sure no one could hear either. He did not want Mr Potter to be around to save the day. Least of all her honour. Rubbing his face he then began to go about charming the lake itself by creating a little alcove for her to relax in.

With a few other charms as an extra precaution. " _Aqua Aestus_ ," he muttered waving his hand over the water. Testing the temperature. She would most certainly find pleasure here. Turning a tree root into a flat wooden seat for something comfortable to sit. Taking a silk green handkerchief out of his trouser pockets: " _Crescat Engorgo_ ," he murmured. The small material became a shimmering emerald silken blanket for him to kneel down on and other, more pressing matters, later.

A white wing collar shirt was already undone to reveal his Adam's apple and a tease of his prominent collarbone that led to broad shoulders no Witch had ever been able to resist. He smirked when he remembered Lily Evans wantonly wrapped around him. He had almost succeeded had not Snape caught them at it and jealously guarded her honour. This time he was prepared. Little good _that_ did him, Lucius sneered, as he swiftly removed his cuffs. Carefully placing them in his trouser pocket. The stupid bint still ended up with that idiot Potter! Methodically, Lucius rolled his sleeves up. Because he did not want to wait when the moment came, he took down his trousers, wondering how she would react to this. Shock, he surmised. Kicking them away he sat down removing his footwear. Dressed now only in his loose shirt and satin black boxers. Good, he checked his arm, the Mark was not throbbing yet.

Something else was. Straining against his black silk boxers. Unbuttoning the flap to ease the pain. This was going to be so easy. Many had him down as a big bad Death Eater. What they did not know, and was less well documented, was his way with the women! If this was going to be the last time to have a bit of fun it may as well be with Potter's delicious looking friend. Though, he sighed, I doubt that HE would appear tonight. Depending on how she fights and responds, he may even have her as his live-in Mistress. Salazar's forked tongue, it was big enough to have a whole army of them. If anything, Lucius was more precious over his Mistresses than he was for his wife. Lucius Malfoy was selfish in all aspects of life and proud of it.

As she approached he placed a disillusionment charm on himself so she would sit there willingly. Besides, it was always more fun. The moment she was utterly relaxed then he would silently, stealthily, reveal himself. Gods Witch! he sighed at her slight but perfect form. You are a world of trouble! Golden shoulders gleamed amongst the silver droplets of the lake. Neck slender. He could throttle it with one of his hands but that was not his goal for today. No, his goal was for a more _pleasant_ task. After her somewhat tantric self induced orgasm Lucius listened to what else she wanted to say aloud.

"Wow," Hermione breathed circling her neck, "this is like being at Centre Parcs oh yeah, Longleat here I come." Centre Parcs? Longleat? That was Wiltshire. His home county. Lucius tilted his head listening for her moans of pleasure as the heat encompassed and soothed her. "I want to stay here forever but," she sighed, "that Quidditch match - oh Hermione," she chided herself. "Why did you have to say that? You don't even like Quidditch, truth is you hate sport - whether it's Wizards on a broomstick or Muggles kicking a ball on the ground." Just a few short years in our world, Lucius tutted, you already use the word with such easy dislike. "I wish I was at the Burrow reading but I could not let Ron and Harry down." At that point Lucius could thank to whatever deity that would listen, the Gryffindorian sense of loyalty of the golden trio from the tree tops: "Stop thinking Hermione, just try and enjoy the moment."

Yes, Hermione, Lucius smirked behind her. Enjoy. She lifted a hand out of the water and tucked a stray coil of hair behind her ear. "Ce sera, sera, whatever will be. Will be, the futures not ours to see," she hummed. "Ce sera, sera." With a sigh, Hermione dipped her head under the water and re-surfaced: "Under the sea," her tone changed, "Under the sea," dancing sexily in the gap. "Down where it's wetter, down where it's better, take it from me," laughing with pure joy. "Oh to think, Mermaids are real. Flying carpets are real. Wands are real. Spells and potions are real. I love being a Witch!" she sighed resting her head back. "Almost as much as I love this bliss right now."

Surprisingly, Lucius was taken by her sweet humming soulful sound of the first song. As for the down where it's wetter, if only you knew how I interpret that, Hermione. As for loving being a Witch... You most certainly will love being _my_ Witch. This was the point Lucius lifted the disillusionment charm. Held his hand out hovering his fingertips over the nape of her neck. Enraptured by the darker shades of caramels and honey glistening with the sun and water. Such a Nymph. Remain quiet, Lucius thought. Absolutely still. He crawled closer to the edge as his fingers caught the loose tendrils from her rough ponytail: "Who's there?" she was startled as she felt the touch but too scared to turn around. "Who is it?"

Holding his hand steady, he could not risk her turning around yet. Carefully, he put his hand on her shoulders. No wonder she beats my son at exams, he sighed, the magic core sizzling through her body almost reverberated through his heart. Methodically, with a firm but gentle touch, Lucius started massaging. Kneading his firm fingers into her soft, supple, sun drenched skin. Instead of opening her eyes wondering who was touching her, she just relaxed into the heavy touch: "Oh yes," she hissed. "I love dreams when I can feel someone touching me." Arching an eyebrow Lucius was about to whisper something to completely send her into a pool of bliss. Until he realised that, despite little contact, she still recognised his voice: Also, she had just sent herself in that zone, it would not do to let her go back to that... yet. Bide your time, dear boy, bide your time. "So good it feels real."

Rolling her head and enjoying what she thought was a fake massage Hermione moaned out a name Lucius did not recognise: "Oh A-lan Rick-man," she sighed, trying not allow her body to go back to that episode earlier. Something had happened to her the past month or so. Her body seemed to react so well to the slightest of touches. It hurt sometimes. Instead of questioning where the heaviness came from, Hermione leaned, willingly into Lucius touch. "Am I 10:30 or 10:45, I doubt you would need my friends; they get in the way," she giggled. A reference to a man who wanted sex by appointment? Was this some odd and boring muggle thing? No, it can't be boring because the blush that flamed her cheeks and peppered tantalisingly around her neck and shoulders, indicated otherwise: "If the Sheriff of Nottingham really sounded like that then Marion was a right dunderhead," she mimicked Snape so well that Lucius forgot the sneak attack and chuckled; the ripple from his mirth caused her to quiver momentarily as he applied the pressure harder into her youthful, wet, pliant skin.

Of course, that made her gasp. Slowly, her hands crawled up her breasts, up to her shoulders where she felt wet; slightly downy, definitely male flesh. Instead of panicking Hermione grabbed further up one arm. Vice like grip she clutched on. Decidedly male. Sinews throbbed at her touch, whoever this man was, he wanted her. Stop it, Hermione sighed, you are being assaulted! Be sensible. Not hormonal. Once her other hand closed on the arm she bobbed her head under the water and yanked, with all her might. Dragging him into the water with her.

Rising from the water, Hermione swam further away from. Until her curiosity got the better of her and once the sounds of shock and spluttering subsided. Hermione turned around to see who her would-be assailant was. "Mr Malfoy!" she exclaimed. Skittering further away from the mad looking, soaked through Slytherin. Rumoured Death Eater. Byron-esque in the mad, bad and dangerous to know quality. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Oh, I forgot, you do not have to explain yourself to the likes of me!" she

sneered.

With that Hermione swam her way gracefully back to the shore where her clothes lay in a heap. What she did not expect was Lucius agility as his long, powerful arms, sliced through the still waters effortlessly. Due to size and strength Lucius proved himself to be fast and aggravating. Not only was the lake lapping but she noted that his muscles rippled in the sun. Now the element was in his favour, as she had no choice but to swim either into him, or stop in front of him. Sexy when wet! Hermione berated herself. No, no he is not. He's just as disgusting to me as I am to him. Or I _should_ be to him.

"You thought I was someone," he murmured once he had her attention. "Who was the object of your fantasy?"

"A Muggle."

"One you know?"

"In the muggle world he's more famous than Harry Potter - plus he's in his late forties," then lowered her eyelashes: "no, I do not know him."

"So, you like experienced men," the smirk tugged at his lips.

This was not right. He was supposed to be cursing her for besting him. Touching him a... hang on, _he_ was touching _her_. Gave her the best shoulder massage she ever had. "I do not know what sexuality he is, I just think he has a wonderful baritone and amazing eyes. Blond."

Baritone, yes. Amazing eyes. Lucius liked to think so. One could not be blonder than I. "Why did you mention times?"

Lucius was proving an excellent swimmer. Cutting through the water gracefully. Unlike the swans, Lucius Malfoy was not flapping about under the surface. Neither was she: "T-times?"

"Am I your 10:30 or 10:45?" he quoted.

Hermione allowed the water to carry her. Unfortunately, Lucius was getting closer and closer: "It is something he says in one of his films."

"Those things that…"

"Why does it matter to you who Alan Rickman is, anyway?" her voice had risen; hoping that someone could hear her. Hermione scowled when she could not see or hear anyone. What was going on? "Leave him alone."

"So, this Sheriff he plays…" Lucius was now circling around her as she followed his movements not wishing for him to be behind her, "with women, does he?"

"One, Maid Marion, who does not like him. He wears a lot of black and promises to call off Christmas."

"Sounds like Severus Snape to me," the white shirt was transparent showing off his perfectly toned body. Hermione pinched her lower lip with her teeth. Go away! Elegantly, Hermione flipped around and tried to swim elsewhere but Lucius followed her. Married! Hermione tried to remind herself. He. Is. Mar-ried. As in bonded to another woman for life. Son shows said UNION was/is not entirely passionless.

Honestly, Hermione was mad at the world. Wizard - Muggle - whatever, men were men. Answer a question properly and logically you get told you're a nightmare and insufferable. Flash a bit of leg and suddenly they become loyal little lapdogs. As she was about to climb out of the lake. Further up the shore from where her clothes lay. Hermione found the pull of the water take over. Why should she leave because some blond bastard was in here? She was a proficient enough swimmer to stay away from him. Then she felt hot. Fingers ghosted up and down her spine eventually landing on the clasp of her bikini top. "Quite an interesting garment, Hermione," he whispered blowing on her wet shoulder blades.

"MR Malfoy!" she hissed. "I do hope you recall that you are married."

"Yes," he murmured, "but why should I stop at one when there are beautiful Witches growing up all around me?"

"I can scream you know!" she said.

Now she felt his hands on her hips as he pressed into her back. Nuzzling his nose into the nape of her neck he dotted hot, searing kisses into her skin. Then he turned her around where her hands accidentally landed on his shoulders. "I charmed the area so no one can either see or hear us," he whispered against her lips, "and I _intend_ to make you scream."

"Oh how thoughtful for yourself," Hermione snapped. "I will never scream for you, Malfoy!" she spat.

"I won't lie, yes, it was mainly for my gratification that I did so." The water lapped gently around them acting like their own personal, natural symphony: "So, you like deep voiced, older, sarcastic men," Lucius sighed ghosting his fingers around her jaw. "I am so delighted that Severus is not here." Tilting her chin up with the curve of his hand so he could gaze into her eyes: "Oh, I believe in less than an hours time, you will be yelling for me to make you scream."

"I'm your son's age, does that not bother you?"

Gazing down at her young pert breasts rising and falling out of the water as her breath quickened at his light barely there touch. "Would you prefer it if Draco were here instead of me?" Oh the goody two shoes has a weakness for dark men, this was too sweet.

"I would _prefer_ to have been left alone."

"Green and silver really does suit you, Hermione," he said her name like he had a right to it. "It has been some time but you have, indeed, become a creature of beauty."

" _Mr_ Malfoy," she snapped, "might I remind you that if you continue on this course of action I can report you to Dumbledore. He still does not believe you did not slip Ginny, Riddle's diary."

"Ah, well," he purred moving in closer. Hermione realised the only escape would be to swim through his legs. That, he was not going to allow her to do as he would, more likely, trap her between them. There was now not enough room for her to turn around or even to crawl backwards up the mud as he had pinned her against the bank. "I have a feeling you would not wish your friends to be told as they most assuredly would be informed if you did."

"You are nothing more than a perverted, deviant, spineless, self-satisfied prig."

Chuckling deeply within his throat Lucius was not riled by her guileless attempt of insulting him: "To a man like me," he sighed tilting his head as he lowered down to brush his lips against hers: "that is nothing but a compliment." Without warning he kissed the hollow of her cheek. He heard the gulp of uncertainty. "As for self-satisfaction," he slowly drew back making sure his lips touched her flesh with each syllable. "I think that I have found a worthy partner."

"Yes, your wife!" she tried to push him away but he was bigger, stronger, bulkier and sleeker than she was. More experienced! She tried staring him in the eyes. Torn between wanting to spit in his eye and melt in his strong gaze Hermione tried a full on body assault to get him to move but he was too firm. Unmoveable. In fact he just watched her with that disgusting sneer on his face.

"Does Potter realise what a fiery demon you are, Hermione?" she wanted nothing more than to get away from him so why was she not trying harder? "Your actions betray you, Hermione, you responded so well to my massage I just wonder how well you'd respond to other," licking his lips again at her young newly grown breasts. Hooded eyes seemed to be directing his lascivious gaze towards her sex, "more _intimate_ touches."

"Is this some alternative universe where suddenly I'm pure blood?"

"You created that when I saw you wearing Slytherin clothing," his fingers hooked around her bikini strap stroking from her collarbone to her breast. "Besides, you are of age."

"No, I am 14."

"Do you realise the repercussions of time-travel?" he whispered. "Was it not fully explained?"

What in Hades? How had he known that? "I have never time-travelled," Hermione flushed. Fluttering her eyes down knowing she was twiddling her fingers under the water. "I am a Witch," Ah, this ought to throw him off. "Not a double hearted Alien in a rickety blue box with the legend Police Box on the lintel."

"Is that a Muggle reference I am not supposed to get?"

" _You_ have heard of Doctor Who?"

Sighing against her body, Lucius noticed a quivering of flesh. Oh she did want him! How long had she desired him? Never one to disappoint a teenager with a crush Lucius became more dogged in his pursuit of pleasure from the presumptuous wench: "I did go to school with Muggleborns, some of them could not stop talking about it."

That was a shock. Not only that he remembered snatches of conversations from Muggleborns he went to school with. He recalled, with perfect clarity, the reference she made to a long since cancelled Muggle SCI FI show. Makes Arthur sound like the Slytherin. "Also, you forget, I am a Ministry official," he whispered against her neck. When did he get there? All four fingers were now curled around the silver strap. The thumb rested on the top of her breast: "I know what you got up to last year." Hecate's teeth, that was right. "In fact, I encouraged the motion." Now her eyes widened in visible surprise, Lucius chuckled against her. Do that again, she leaned into his body, arching her back as her hands explored his muscular, defined, sculpted David like chest. Skin to wet shirt contact were driving her wild in this close proximity. Agony took over as she felt her nipples straining against the cups. The man could not help but notice the young witch offering herself against the bank. Wanting him to take her. Well, well, you are my dear little cat are you not. "It puts age a little out of context," he sucked a little on her chest. "You were aware of that denominating factor?"

Oh no! They said that things would speed up regarding certain things throughout her life. Is that why her body seemed to feel... different? She had already begun her journey into womanhood. "No, I was not," she whimpered. "You're married!" to reminded herself again more than him. This is mad. Bonkers. If she was not so electrically charged, she would have laughed. Why was she not frightened? Scared? Angry? Why was she allowing this man to caress her in this manner? "I do not want to be one to cross your wife."

"Ever heard of the _droit de seigneur_?"

"Outmoded in Victorian times," she moaned. Hands seemed to be all over her body – stroking her waist. Brushing her hips. Spreading on her abdomen. Cupping and weighing her breasts as long fingers flicked against the increasingly sore nipple, "even then it was considered an urban legend," oh no, not there. Now his lips were sucking a little on the exposed part of her breast.

"Muggles might have outmoded it but I can still have my play _mates_."

Mates! Almost, she thought bitterly, you can hear the italics. It was only now she had the presence of mind to squirm and wriggle beneath his touch."I would like to find that out for myself, thank you." Never had she thought she'd missed the Devil's Snare.

It was like he did not hear her. Nudging his nose on her slender neck, lips brushed against her wet, raw, untasted flesh: "If I have no effect on you, we shall find out soon enough," he purred pressing his lips to her.

Close your eyes, Hermione sighed. Think of something. Anything. Think of Molly and Arthur doing it. That should turn you off. Not that I… "Ah!" she moaned as she felt a searing heat from her abdomen spilling out in liquid form on her flimsy bottoms. Now Lucius was nipping below her ear and along her soft round shoulders. "Stop please!" she begged.

"Why?" he said back. "You sound as if you're enjoying my idea of fun." Even his eyelashes fluttering against her cheek scorched her flesh.

"Because, I am Hermione Granger and you are Lucius Bloody Malfoy!" she tried to sound angry but that was hard to be when she felt his other firm hand rest on her hip sending a shudder through her leg down to her toes. "You're a Nazi Supremacist and I am supposed to be so wrong you won't allow your son to touch my hand in case he gets Muggleitis!"

Her latest word caused him to rock with laughter against her body: "Muggleitis, I love that," he sighed against her. "Now," he purred, "let me see the effect I have on you," without warning he moved the hand from the hip towards the line of her panties. Not there, Hermione pleaded mentally, if his hands felt good on the rest of her body Circe knows how wonderful they'd feel elsewhere. Brushing the edge away with his middle finger she began to buckle. Interesting, Lucius sighed, nice. The silken lip of her labia was definitely swollen. "You _do_ want me, don't you, my sweet little enemy."

"I hate you!" she hissed.

Smirking against her exposed throat Lucius lowered his body as he rubbed three fingers between her throbbing labial lips. Not quite opening her up, but teasing her; causing her to clench her thighs around his arm: "Maybe you get turned on by hate, Hermione." This pain she was feeling could be satisfied elsewhere. Lift up your leg and knee him in the crown jewels. Again, her body betrayed her, when she lifted her leg, it was to wrap around his waist. "Thank you for being such a responsive pupil, Hermione."

"I was aiming to kick you in your groin," she sighed.

"You do realise," he whispered, "the next action I make will determine whether your body wins or your mind."

"What about my heart?" she growled. Now her mouth was throbbing. Tongue tingling. Burning. Boiling. Frantically, under the surface of her cool exterior. "Does that not get a say?"

"I am afraid," he whispered now against the valley between her breasts, sniffing in the petrichor scent that washed over her. "My dearest." Ozonic; dampened earth; something else, her own perfume? Peaches! From the shampoo she must have used this morning. Did she _really_ think he, Lucius Malfoy, was going to let a little thing like blood status get in the way when he wanted a Witch? "Initially, the heart never gets a say."

"You're acting like you've been planning this for awhile."

"Well, I was hoping to save you for a later date but you negated the need for that when the school requested permission for you to use the time turner to complete all your studies, though," he pressed his lips to her collarbone: "Why you wanted to partake in Muggle Studies is beyond me."

"How did…"

"Draco," he smiled against her throat. "It is time, Hermione, to see if you really can say no."

Momentarily, Hermione had forgotten that one of his hands was resting in-between her legs - fingers toying absent-mindedly along the edge of what could be her descent into the abyss. "What do you… oh!"

Firmly, Lucius rubbed deeper into her essence. Warm liquid threatened to drown his fingers: "Now," he said moving up her body, "you would definitely hate me if I left you alone after that."

"I can live with myself."

"Well," he said moving away from her, "I will be lying on a blanket by that alcove drying off if you change your mind," he said.

With that he slipped his hand away from her now throbbing seam. Trying to ignore the wave of pleasure it gave her. On opening her eyes she saw that Lucius laid on his side. Exposing his hip to Hermione. Muscular thighs. Those hands. Oh stop it, Hermione. She flushed. No matter his silken voice that spoke of dark desires. No matter what he looks like. The way he moved. It was _Lucius Malfoy_. The father of her enemy. Arthur's bane. MARRIED! Shaking her head she stayed there for a few moments, hoping he had come to his senses, and remembered whom she was. After she felt enough time had passed she dived under the water the way _Ariel_ would and swam just as easily under the water.

When she reached the bank she took a deep breath. Clutching onto a tree root one side and a jutting out rock the other, Hermione climbed out. Dripping wet from every pore. Breathless. Definitely not relaxed. Cold. Still, that was her fault. She should really have bought a towel but she did not imagine being absent for this long. Stretching up she exposed her entire body to the sunshine. Hearing her joints creak. Hermione started her post-exercising ritual like she was taught at her Primary School.

"Interesting form of post swimming etiquette," said an urbane voice she had hoped had disappeared. "I prefer to lie in the sun to dry off and, on a more planned excursion, a glass of white wine, some crackers and a cake of Brie."

"You are supposed to stretch before and after exercise," Hermione replied gathering her things. "I'm going."

"Why do you not dry off first at least?" the man was aggravating. Now her legs were trembling with the ease in which he spoke to her. "The Weasley's would wrap you up in jumpers lest you catch cold," he teased.

"At least it's better than remaining with you or having to explain what took me so long when I said I would be back long before 3pm."

"How do you know what the time is?"

"Girl Guides. Position of the sun."

"Clever," Lucius purred.

Gritting her teeth Hermione wished Draco could stand up to his father. Draco would probably have been a lot easier to reject. After all, Lucius has had more practise and, it seemed; had planned her to be alone with him at some point in their acquaintance. "Goodbye."

"How are you going to release the charms I put in place?" Lucius asked, laughter in his voice. "Counter charms only work when you know the spells in the first place. You could probably make some lucky guesses but I doubt you could remove all of them. Especially as one of them is not even on the curriculum."

Note to self: No longer go anywhere alone when you know Nazi blond prats are within the vicinity. "And I suppose you are not going to release them, are you?"

"Not unless you come and dry off," Hermione did not have to turn around to see the smirk painted across his lips. Reaching the silver glint in his eyes. "Hermione, there's plenty of room."

"Fine!" she dumped her clothes on the floor. Sharply turning on her heel and was caught off balance by what she saw. Lean, lithe, lion like man, gracefully residing on a green blanket. Glistening in the golden sun from his sojourn in the lake. A more glorious image than the Sun King himself. "You could just charm yourself dry."

"Ah, but you cannot," he said. I do not intend to help you either, you lissom little cat. "Do you realise there are _some_ Slytherins not as cultured as I?" with another dazzling smile he stroked the blanket at where she was likely to lie. Circling his fingers around where her belly button would be. "Some would have rutted you before you could blink."

"Oh so even in the Great and Noble house of Slytherin there are some wizards better than others?"

"Hierarchy is not a bad thing, Hermione."

"Not if you're on top it isn't!"

Laughter in his eyes, evident in his smile, that Hermione had said something a) amusing and b) placed an image in the depraved Wizard's head. Chewing her lower lip Hermione did not understand what had caused that look of dark mirth in his eyes. "Oh, I intend to be on top, Hermione," he said. "Join me." Warily, Hermione walked up to the blanket. Eyeing it like a fox would an already plucked and prepared chicken for it to take, placed outside the hen house it once presided in. "I admire your sense of caution, Hermione, it's almost Slytherin of you."

In a parody of Draco she bit back: "Don't touch me!" before stepping on the soft, shimmering, emerald green silk. Slowly, she lowered herself on the blanket and sat with her knees huddled to her throat.

"Sun bathe," he said. "Allow the sun to worship your body as you pay obeisance to it." She felt his hand on her shoulder again. Why was she so weak? Why couldn't she resist him? Gently, he pulled her down so she was lying flat on her back: "Now," he said, stroking her belly. "No silly rules about no touching, Hermione, I can be certain that if I had not happily come across you. Another might and that other may not have been quite so gentle."

"Draco would have given up by now."

"I know," he whispered, "but I am older, wiser and more," he slipped his hand further down to between her legs. Throbbing. Sore. Hot. "Persuasive," he finished.

"If you say so, Mr Malfoy," Hermione tried to sound blasé. "I cannot take your word on that alone, I need witnesses."

"Maybe because I have not put my case forward in such a clear manner," he growled as he lowered his head pressing his lips on hers. The tip of his tongue licked around her lower lip. "I hope this will make you bring forward the jury's verdict," he purred before caressing her mouth with his. "I happen to have three good lawyers that can _test_ ify on my behalf." Sexual puns now? Hermione did not have time to consider her own actions as she raised her arm and stroked his hair out of her face. Nipping around her mouth Lucius continued stroking the contours of her waist. Igniting her core. Her tongue, her bad - dangerous, would-never-be silenced mouth betrayed her mind which, itself, was clouded in fog. This was not thirst that could be quenched by water. No pain that could be cured by pepper up. This was primal. The entire scene was something out of a James Bond film. "Well?" he asked. Noticing her lips parting. Pupils dilated. Glowing blushing flesh: "What is the verdict?"

Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn all pure blood hypocrites to hell. "Please," she murmured.

"Please, what, Hermione?" he whispered in her ear.

"Just please!" she begged.

"I need to hear those magic words?" his nose brushed aside her hair again. Not Make Love to me. How could she say what she really wanted? This was wrong. All levels of wrong. So how come it felt so right? "What would you do for this Sheriff you are so fond of?" That was cheating. Tapping into her private fantasy no one was meant to hear. "How would _he_ want _you_?" Stop it! "If you are a good Witch I may even find a way to watch this film of yours." Silken promises wrapped in gossamer hiding the dagger of hate. "How about we watch it together?" he nipped her ear making her bite hard on her lower lip. Suddenly, she felt his mouth consume one of her aching, heaving hardened breasts. An action that caused her already raw sinews to shudder beneath him. "You're hurting me, Hermione," he groaned as pushed his tumicid staff on her abdomen. "The quill is full and needs to write its essay into your beautifully willing body, my dear sweet temptress."

As far she was concerned this would be her one and only encounter with the pervert: "I'm yours," she sighed. NO! Why did she have to say that? She planned on something like: Get over yourself, Malfoy. Just this once.

Not: I'm Yours.

"Damn right you are, Hermione," he purred against her lips. "Don't you forget that."

What did he mean by that? She had no idea as her stomach lurched. He had better be as powerful a Wizard as they say he is, she sighed. If they were seen or heard or both - she dreaded the repercussions - not for him. She could not care less for him. Though, happily for her, she'd be seen as the victim and he'd be sent to Azkaban.

Carefully, he untied the little straps connecting the panties together and discarded them. The fingertips grazing against her now highly sensitized flesh caused her to whimper. "You will be purring for me my sweet," he sighed. "Like the cat you are." Hooking an arm under her legs smoothly lifting them from behind the knees he gazed into her now dark brown pools of wonder. That was it, he groaned. He'd waited too long. Wedging his knee between the small gap of her thighs, Lucius parted them. Shifting his huge, hulking frame within her small body. Stroking down one of her legs with his fingernails as she seemed to respond so well to that motion. Lifting it up by the thigh, Lucius wrapped it around his waist as he kissed her throat. That beautiful, teasing throat; that he wanted to kiss since he saw her bend her head up to look at his son. Her growling hiss was all he needed to hear as he grazed his teeth against her collarbone. The other leg willingly, and with no help, completed the most intimate of hugs shared by this unorthodox of couplings.

Hot hands lowered down to her young, untested breasts straining against the fabric with decided desire. Smirking at how hard they were, he imagined the torture she would have suffered had she said no. A shiver ran through his mind of her asking one of those red haired dolts. This renewed his attack. Dipping his head he bunched one breast in his capable palm. Massaging it. Teasing it. Hungrily kissing around the hard nipple of it's twin through the soft fabric. Hissing as his teeth grazed her pleasure induced swell. Nipping harder, Lucius looked up as her eyes darkened. "No one else will be your bed fellow," he vowed, as let go of her nipple. "I will not tolerate rivals, Hermione."

"Oh gods," Hermione arched her back finally grabbing his hair in fists. "This has to be dark magic."

"Magic," he agreed, "but most certainly not dark," speedily he switched breasts - all the while her legs clamped around him eager to get more. "My, my," he whispered. "You are quite the lusty little cat, are you not?"

This was so weird, Hermione thought, am I dreaming? This is a dream. Wake up, Hermione. Please wake up, Wake… "ARGH!" she yelled as his teeth nibbled on her ear sending more natural lubricant through her drenched channel for him to sail his yacht into her port, "Mr Malfoy," she groaned as she finally lowered her head down and rested it on the dip of his collarbone. So vulnerable beneath him.

"Lucius," he hissed. "You're my lusty cat," he kissed her throat again, "Lucius," he sucked the lower juicier part of her lip. "Lucius, say it," he ground his hips against her pelvic bone. "Lucius!"

Hermione could have pushed him off there. She could have stood up and tried to find a chink in his jinx but she was too far gone now. Too overwhelmed by this lust filled haze that had clouded her judgement."Oh Merlin, Lucius!" now her voice had taken on a deeper resonance, husky, adult. Feral. It spurned Lucius on. "Why?" she asked panting. The blanket was sticking to her. Not sure now what was water and what was sweat: "Please, Lucius, why?"

Instead of answering he lowered his mouth down to her belly button. Flicking his tongue around the whirls and crevices. Scraping her fingers down the line of his spine as he began sucking the mound around it. "Oh yes," he grinned, "you _keenly_ purr for me my darling feline." Met with mumbles and murmurs of joy. You liked that didn't you? Would you like me to … no, we must save something for another time, mustn't we: "Now, Hermione," he danced up her body. Planting his hands either side of her head. Darkened eyes hot with lust: "This will hurt but afterwards you will want it again," he stroked some hair out of her face, "and again," he whispered dipping his thumb inside her mouth. A prelude to how her centre would react to his impassioned member. Wetting his thumb with her eager, playful tongue. Watching her lap his masculine scent before she bit it with her teeth, sucking on it breathlessly, "and again…" he crushed his mouth to hers. Devouring Hermione completely taking over her senses and her last shred of hope of being able to refuse this man. Byron, you got competition! Hermione moaned his name inside his mouth. Daring not to kiss him back. She allowed his tongue to lick around her roof. Stroking the top of her own, now responsive treacherous tongue, that curled around his as if possessing him for her own. "... Hermione," he groaned. "Ready?"

"What…. OW!" she yelped as he pushed his engorged, throbbing sceptre into her soul, joining them together in a strange union. "That hurt!" her eyes glared hatefully at him.

"I did warn you," he smiled gently kissing her all too eager mouth, "but just so you do not feel too bad, I should imagine Draco's hurting even more."

Bastard. Her brown eyes focussed a look of intense anger on Lucius. "Now, my dear cat," he gently removed his quivering sword from her sheath. Exquisite, Hermione sighed. Bliss! her hiss of approval spurred Lucius on as he thrust his turgid wand deeper into her. Causing Hermione to whimper and bite her lower lip. " _Purr_ for me, my cat," he grunted as he motioned to move out of her again. Momentum built to such an extent Lucius rocked harder into her, slamming hard against her vice like bud. Nails dug into his back. Toes curled. "PURR!" he yelled as he pounded her several times. Yelling purr with each wild thrust into her now possessed and owned femininity. "PURR! WITCH! PURR!"

Strangled moans. Sighs of such intensity fell upon his chest. Helplessly murmuring. Until Lucius pulled out of her ever so slightly causing her to hiss and arch her back up wanting to swallow all he could give inside her. Slowly, Lucius stroked up and down her sides, pulling her hips to his body. "Mmmmmmmm ohohohohohohoh!" she screamed. "OH OH OH OH!" Warm hot hands covered her thighs as entered his entire length into her small, wriggling, willing body. "Luciusssssssssssssss!" she screamed! Digging her nails into the small of his back scratching down to his buttocks. With her slight hands Hermione pushed him down, making her slam so hard into her that she temporarily blacked out. "Lucius," she whimpered as her head rolled to its side. Her arms flopped down as they lost all use of her muscles. Her body surrendered completely. "This is just so...!" she yelled as he grabbed her hips with his hands again pushed her body down onto his own, sex. "Mmmmmmmmmm," she twisted grabbing fistfuls of the blanket, "Oh oh oh oh!" Now Lucius decided to go for the kill as he felt his own release near. With one last, truly final thrust, he grunted out her name letting his seed spill within her. "You bastard, Lucius Malfoy!" she panted as she lay flat with her arms splayed as if she was making a snow fairy as he left another trail of hot, feathery kisses with his lips and eyelashes on her sweaty, flushed, and still sensitive face, neck, and chest. Still panting Lucius dove right in with his tongue where Hermione was more than willing to duel. "Why did you do this?"

"I admire beauty," he mumbled against her neck. Licking around her ear, he then proceeded to nip and suck the nape of her neck, sucking with his teeth making her whimper yet again. "Careful, dear cat, you do not wish to awaken it," his lips travelled back to that throat that had beguiled him from the start. "It hates being teased," he gently entered her one last time before the erection completely slackened. Hermione's legs shuddered around him as he slowly slipped out of her.

He finally had his muggleborn Gryffindor wench. Oh and she was superb for her first time. Imagine her excelling in the lessons he planned to give her. Exhausted, spent and satiated for now: Lucius collapsed on top of her, moaning her name over her shoulder, nibbling her one last time.

They stayed there whilst each had the time to recover. Hermione found she was dripping with blood and other fluids from her treacherous nub. Lucius picked up his wand and, thoughtfully, cleaned her up from head to toe making sure there was not so much as scar on her. "Well," he tilted his head as he contemplated his artistry on the young woman. The eyes glowed, the flesh sizzled, the smile and the dimples were more alluring than before. The wild mass of curls were like snakes from her scalp – twisting, writhing and untameable. "I will probably make a visit to the school sometime," his voice spoke volumes of how he intended to carry on playing with her. To make her drown into him. Causing her breath to diminish and her will to weaken but oh she enjoyed it! "You had best be less of a fight then."

"I thought this was only a…"

"I mean you to be mine, Hermione," he stroked along her jaw. " _Mine_!" he growled grabbing the hair from the back of her head with the other. Clutching onto her jaw Lucius turned her head so she could see the intent of his fire. "in every sense of the word."

"I'm not some slave to do your bidding!"

Instead of being indignant or nasty Lucius just leaned over her again before she had time to stand up and placed one gentle kiss on her still hungry lips causing them to already ache for more.

"I think we should let time decide that," he whispered.

Quickly Hermione scurried up. Rushed her shirt on. Did not even bother buttoning it. Zipped up her skirt and put her sandals on. "Bastard!" she hissed.

It was then he released the wards that had trapped her and she stormed off. "A bastard am I?" he sighed as his hooded eyes rested on the one item of clothing she unwittingly left behind. "A keepsake," he picked up the discarded lilac panties of her delectably illicit outfit. Still sticky with her essence, he threaded the laces through his fingers the way he did with her hair. "I did not know you cared."

Half an hour later Lucius slipped into the Marquee - dressed as he was before. Suave. Smiling. Congenial. "It must have been _extremely_ sensitive," Draco said, "what have you been doing? I even asked Potter if he'd seen you."

Miss Hermione Granger, Lucius thought, screwed her senseless: "Exploring nature's bounteous delights," was Lucius calm reply. Putting his hand in his pocket he felt the fabric of the panties: "a most challenging thing to admire in all but five minutes."

Furrowing his brow Draco noticed that his father's hair was still wet. "Was it raining?"

"Of course not, Draco."

"Why is your hair wet?"

Lucius was saved having to answer when Cornelius Fudge walked in. The Minister made a bee line towards Lucius. Grabbing the man by the wrist, Cornelius enthusiastically shook Lucius warmly by the hand. If only the dolt knew where that hand had been. The thought restored Lucius equilibrium and he smiled congenially at the fat fool. "Hello, old boy, nice to see you look happy."

"Ecstatic," Lucius said in reply. Gracefully capturing a flute of bubbly from a floating tray. "One might even call it," he licked his lips. "Orgasmic."

Spluttering out his drink Draco coughed at his father's choice of words. Thankfully, Fudge was so one track minded that it missed him entirely: "Well, that is good, Mr Malfoy. I like seeing smiles. Boosts morale!"

Smirking with a dangerous curve to his lips, Lucius lifted the glass, with a quirk of the eyebrow. Raising it to his own lusty cat Hermione Granger. "My morale has already sufficiently been boosted, Cornelius," he murmured taking a sip of the champagne. "In a most satisfying manner."

"Hermione, where have you been?" Ron yelled. "You could've missed the match!" he touched her arm but she flinched a little. Knowing that the last person who touched it would not let anyone near her. Let alone Ronald Weasley. "We went all around the lake looking for you but we could not see you," he said dropping his hand. "What's wrong?"

"We were extremely worried," Ginny said, pressing her hand into Hermione's, "especially as Lucius Malfoy was nowhere to be found."

"As you can see, I am fine."

Standing behind Ginny, Harry glared through his now world famous spectacles. Hermione noticed him reaching for the red head's shoulder. Subtle, she smirked. "I bumped into Draco who was also walking around the lake."

"And?"

"He was looking for his father. He seemed somewhat _distracted_ ," Hermione hung her head, "he did not even call you… you know… that. Instead he said: _When you find her - tell her I want to talk to her. Immediately_."

"Um," Hermione bit her lip. _Probably to tell me to stay away from his dear daddy kins_. The horrible thing about it was – he was not raping her. Not really. One touch and she wilted under him. Yes, she was trapped by the charms but she had an opportunity to swim the other side and climb out and wait till nightfall. So what if she missed the match. No, that would not have worked. Lucius would have seen her and joined her. Essentially, he had trapped her. But she still did not push him off. He had not used any magic on her to make her do it. "Well, I suppose he wanted to insult me. Not important." Hermione Granger allowed herself to be seduced by Lucius Malfoy. Not only that but she _liked_ it. _Loved_ it. Was _eager_ for it. _Yearned_ for it. Even now, when she was throbbing and sore, she _needed_ him.

"Hermione," Ginny began, "why is your hair wet?"

Wet hair? "I went for a swim," she answered. Git! Had to leave something didn't he. So I had to face awkward questions or try and lie my way out. "I must have been under water when you were doing your rounds."

Under was right. Under Lucius Malfoy. He expects round two! Why did she feel that the only person who would believe her would be Professor Snape?

"We could not see anything of the lake at all," Fred said. "Like you know, it disappeared off the face of the earth!" he stood up and puffed his chest out: "In desperation we cried," here he fell to his knees. Holding one hand over his heart, the other up high in the air and rearranging his face into one of stricken anxiety, "HERMIONE, WHERE ARE YOU? WE ARE BEREFT AND LOST WITHOUT YOU! I DON'T KNOW HOW WE CAN LIVE KNOWING YOU MAY BE DEAD! TO THINK SHE NEVER SLEPT WITH FRED WEASLEY!"

"Our head filled with all sorts of disasters that could have befallen you," George carried on. "Carried off by a Centaur because you are, ya know, beautiful like. Or a Werewolf?" Hermione flinched. "Even worse we dreaded the thought that you were under the dark machinations of YOU-KNOW-WHO'S allies!" George's eyes twinkled as he matched his brother's stance: "OH, HERMIONE! DO NOT LEAVE THIS MORTAL COIL, FOR WE ARE NOTHING WITHOUT YOU. HOW COULD YOU DIE BEFORE YOU KISSED GEORGE WEASLEY!" with that he offered her an irrepressible wink making her laugh. "Didn't you hear us?"

"No," she said. Devil, the man was a devil with blond locks. She hated how close George was to the truth. Truth be told she would rather it have been one of the twins. At least the worst fall out she could expect was having Molly show her blatant disapproval. "Did you check for charms?"

"OH, GREAT AND BEAUTIFUL HERMIONE, WE BOW TO YOUR WONDERS AND DELIGHTS! FOR WE KNIGHTS OF GRYFFINDOR DIDST INDEED FORGET TO CHECK FOR CHARMS!" Fred moaned dramatically. "MAYHAP, OUR FAIR MAIDEN SHALT FORGIVE US FOR OUR ERROR AND SHE MAY YET SLEEP WITH ME!"

"CANST THOU FORGIVE US FAIR MAIDEN FOR ALLOWING THEE TO BE MISSING WHEN, ALL ALONG, THE ANSWER WAS RIGHT IN OUR TROUSERS!"

"Shut up the pair of you!" Ginny giggled punching her brothers on their arms, "You're making her blush."

"Lucius looks happy," Arthur said entering the tent. "Just seen him looking like the cat that had the cream."

Did he have to say that expression: Eager little cat, he called her. Gods! She really was: "Did he tell you where he had been?"

"Oh, hello, Hermione," Arthur smiled, "we were about to make another tour of the lake." He then remembered the question she asked him: "Said he was contemplating nature's wondrous bounty. Who'd have thought it, eh? Lucius Malfoy; a nature lover."

 _Bounty_? I will give him bloody Bounty! A lifetimes supply if necessary! "I need a nap before the match, if that's all right?"

"Sure," Arthur sighed. Something was different about his honorary daughter. "Hermione," he said narrowing his eyes, "did _you_ see Lucius?"

Hermione bristled: "What makes you think I had?"

"No reason other than he was at the lake too."

"It's not like the lake is invisible," Hermione huffed. "Or small! He could have been one side and I the other," she was tired and felt ill. "If either Mr Malfoy, or I, were there someone would have seen us." Every single bit of us!

"All right, Hermione," Arthur was gentle in approaching her. "We were worried, that's all, worried. I have a duty of care to you because your parents can't be here," here he wrapped his arms around her waist comforting her. Oh Arthur, she sighed. Nestling in his ragged but cosy body. Stiffly she pulled back as she recalled the last hug she got. "Go on, have your nap," he sighed.

Whatever signs the others had missed Arthur saw something. Guilt. What had Hermione done to make her stiffen in his arms when she had not done so before?

If Hermione had known what was going to happen in the coming year she would have disappeared then and there. Preferably to a place unknown. Especially to a certain blond haired, dark master, elitist, Nazi supremacist arrogant wizard who had deflowered her and was prepared to do so again.

The worst part was, she was already eager for it herself. She _had_ to speak to Professor Snape the moment she got to Hogwarts.


	2. Disgraced Is My Virginity

**Under the surface**

 ** **Warning**** **:** **** _ _This story contains scenes of seduction involving, to many, a Minor. I have used that Time Turner theory but it is still rather dubious. I will not go so far as to say it is__ ** _rape_** _ _so I will add__ _ _ **Dubious Consent**__ _ ___ _ _to this. Up and coming chapters will display themes of rape and torture.__

 _Every chapter will have a partial lyric of a song I feel goes with the chapter in question. I have quite an eclectic music collection as I live with a family of Discographers!_

" _Disgraced is my virginity_ _ **  
**_ _Death has woven my wedding dress_ _ **  
**_ _Oh Great Blue breathe the morning dew_ _ **  
**_ _F_ _or you are the cradle of the image of god"_

 _(_ _ **Nightwish**_ _– Devil and the Deep Dark Ocean)_

 **Disgraced Is My Virginity**

Two weeks had passed since she was what... seduced? She was certain she could not call it rape as she responded. Barely put up a fight. Did not exactly force himself on her either. Even asking her what she would like him to do to her. After the drunken Death Eater raids, which had resulted in the tragic death of the Muggle baby, Hermione wished to go back to her parents just to feel safe with them. Swallow up the sights her childhood eyes took immeasurable comfort in. Different now, she mused sadly, through the perspective eyes of a partially trained Witch. One who had fought evil. The town seemed vulnerable. A child now instead of her. No one here was another Witch or Wizard. Or so she thought until she was charmed by the lovely weather and decided to take a quiet stroll in her local park.

Casually, she strolled, happily swinging her arms to the side. Soon she would be back at the Weasley's. Despite what she had done before the Quidditch Match she felt confident Malfoy Sr, had forgotten all about her. Why should he? He got what he wanted so he had no further need. His wife was still young enough, she presumed, to give him excessive amounts of joy. With these optimistic thoughts in mind Hermione allowed the sounds of the park fill her ears. Birds tweeting as she watched blue tits and robins hop and spin in the air. Ruffling their feathers with pride as they did so. Giggling, Hermione also heard the steady stream of water languidly burbling over the pebbles and tree roots. This was her favourite spot. She sat on a bench to observe humanity.

Ears perked up by happy childhood squeals. Turning her head, Hermione saw a family picnicking out on the well manicured lawns, by a sparkling man made water feature. Why they sat there and not in the refreshing shade of the trees by the natural stream she had no idea. The man fed his partner some of his yoghurt which she exchanged with chocolate mousse. Quietly, Hermione watched the family innocently having fun when she knew of the dark dangers only her presence here could bring upon them. Hermione could not help but have a lump in her throat as she flicked some of her hair behind her ear and fought to keep the tears from her eyes.

"Lookit!" the youngest cried out. Blond curls framed his rosy red apple cheeks. Hermione could not see his eye colour. Quietly, she watched the boy raise his ice cream stained pudgy hand in the air. "Sephnee done it again!"

Se... Ah, Stephanie. Smiling, Hermione followed through to see the oldest child in the family – a rather cheeky looking auburn haired girl with green eyes, heavily freckled, and was going to be quite pretty when older. Could not have been older than four. The girl clearly had been trying to get her parent's attention about asking for something. Angry that her parents were too involved with each other at the point she wanted said thing, the girl set about getting it herself. Somehow, Hermione's heart swelled with pride at Stephanie. _Accio_ , she folded her arms under her breasts and sat back smirking at the sight of a rainbow of coins glinting in the sunshine as they travelled through the air from her father's pockets. Neatly done, Stephanie. Welcome to the fold. I wish I could go up to the parents and explain that their daughter is going to be perfectly fine and to give them a few pointers. Sigh, damn the rules sometimes. Damn me for being too goody goody to attempt to break them.

Performing Wandless magic was only allowed for Witches and Wizards pre-Hogwarts. If only students, who had a semblance of control, were allowed by the time they were fifteen or, if that scumbag was to be believed, she was sixteen now, then she would not have been crying herself to sleep over the past few weeks. Finding only comfort in her mother's arms who was wise enough to ask no questions. Solace with her father's wise words. Joy in her books and studies. Knowing in two days time she was going to go back to the Weasley's. Not seeing eyes on her home for another year.

Each trip back home seems to be shorter as she was immersing herself heavily in her other world. It was confusing over which one she loved more. Eschewing most things Muggle when here apart from money, and the odd educational television programme, Hermione spent most of her time wondering around the park on warm days and reading text books. Sharpening her essay skills and memorising Methodology In Transfiguration when it was muggy. The start of the school holiday's she went for a two week break abroad with her parents. Otherwise she felt more or less 85-90% Witch now. Almost finding the Muggle world quaint and plain.

"Stephanie, what have we told you about stealing?"

"I wun't stealing!" she heard Stephanie say indignantly explaining herself as if she was talking to idiots. "Was temprily borrowing."

Despite trying to keep a little quiet Hermione snorted at the reply. She had to tell that one to Harry one day. "That is not the point, Stephanie, you did not have permission to take the money so it's stealing."

"Temprily borrowin!" insisted the little girl.

"Also, what have we told you about doing _that_ in public?"

Now Hermione was grinding her teeth together. Almost, she felt as if she should step in and hang the Ministry rules. "I did nuffin," Stephanie pouted the way four year old girls do. Large eyes filled with tears. Maternal instinct kicked in Hermione. All she wanted to do was take the girl from the parents, scowl, and say she would take care of her from now on: "I can't help it!"

"When we get home young lady we are going to have to remind you of the dos and don'ts!"

Bristling now, Hermione was about to stand up until she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and gulped. That cologne was now ingrained into her neural networks. Vehemently, Hermione tried to get up again as the girls tears began to shimmer in the sunshine. Seething as she witnessed the father manhandle the poor child rather roughly around the wrist. All she wanted to do was curse the Muggle for hurting a minor.

"Why do you not let the professional deal with the Muggle, Hermione," a silken strand strummed in her ear. "Hmm," she felt lips on the curve of her neck to shoulder. Crying, the child's face twisted in agony. Heartbroken Hermione tried to turn away but the scumbag she had twisted herself with, was keeping her looking. "Remember accidental magic, I am sure if the girl is truly upset her vilely ignorant patriarch would soon find himself stunned."

"I wun't stealin and I wun't doin nuffin," Stephanie's voice held such a panic that it froze Hermione's heart. Now she got a proper look at the father he seemed like the type who loved to keep up appearances. "Daddy, I didn't mean it!" the terror made Hermione feel ill.

"Let me help her," Hermione said. "That man may be a Muggle but a leather strap is the same either way."

"Trust to accidental magic, Hermione, now watch."

Hermione lifted her hand up and tried to brush _his_ hand off. Furious, as she was likely being forced to watch public brutality. Only it would not budge. I bet it was you who murdered that poor muggle baby you bastard, her mind growled. I hate you. I hate what you have done to me. Loathe you for keeping me from helping Stephanie. Keeping her thoughts to herself Hermione continued watching the poor child get angrier. If Stephanie was anything like her, Hermione mused, the parents were in for a world of trouble if they insisted on accusing the child of something she had no control over. She tried to step up again but she heard the gentle hiss of fabric against the rusting metal of the back rest.

"Look, Hermione."

Morbid curiosity took over as Hermione watched. She saw the father yank Stephanie up looking for a private place to hurt his daughter with no one looking. "Daddy, it was accident!"

"You've done something wrong and you need to be punished!"

"Let me go, he'll hurt her!" Tears stung Hermione's eyes as she felt an overwhelming urge to vomit, "I know you hate Muggles but please... let me!"

"You would get expelled if you use magic, Hermione. So," she felt him shift position. The fear in Stephanie's pretty face made her heart hammer in her chest. "I am not the monster you purport me to be, sweet lioness," gulping, Hermione continued watching the scene unfold before her as Stephanie's fear was so palpable – even some onlooking Muggles were looking concerned for the child. "You are not the only one concerned – I am sure the man is a disgusting individual. Muggle parents throughout the cent..."

"Mine weren't!" Hermione said. "My parents treated me with respect, sat me down and explained things, made the point drive home with intellectual reasoning. When I got the letter they were relieved that there was finally an explanation as they said there would be."

"Then you're parents are rather the exception than the norm," he whispered.

"Harry's mother's parents were also accepting of their talented daughter," Hermione snapped. Wishing she could glower at him. "From assumption I'd say that her sister was jealous."

"No doubt," the rustle of fabric. The feel of something sharp pressing into her back. "I have it on good authority that his dear Aunt is not pleased with him in her home."

Suddenly she felt her chin being moved to Stephanie and her father. Suddenly, the father's hand drew sharply away from his daughters and held it up to her face. "What have you done to me you rotten little brat!"

"That does it!" Hermione exclaimed ready to hex the brainless Muggle.

Finally the mother spoke up trying to speak in her daughter's defence. "Dear I am sure..."

"Stephanie is your rat, bitch, not mine," the man snarled holding a limp purple arm that was breaking out in spots. Hermione smirked with satisfaction. "I told you what to do with her but you won't listen to me!"

"You can't expect me to give up my own child!" the woman shouted hotly as she swept Stephanie up in her arms. "Her father died and was more of a man than you will ever be!"

With her other arm she swept up her other child who also looked at his father with fear. Then the man grabbed the boy: "You think I want my son near that freak!"

Gnawing her teeth with frustration she watched as the girl stared in horror at what she done and knew what was coming to her. Hermione heard Harry's horror stories from growing up to know that not every Muggle Parent/Guardian were accepting of their special talented wards.

Reaching his arms out to his mother the boy started crying as the father held him close: "I should have known this was from your side of the family."

"Ha," Hermione exclaimed, "that's what you think."

Chuckling deliciously in her ear, watching the lioness resisting the urge to pounce and hex this muggle was the best entertainment he'd had since he had seduced her. "Turn your gaze to the other child," the man purred.

With a slight turn of her head, Hermione watched as the boy floated in the air to his mother's outreaching arms. "WHAT THE HELL?" the man roared.

"Seems like Jolyon prefers my side of the family as well," the woman said defiantly. Holding her hand up she took a ring off and threw it at the bloke – earning a round of applause from the crowd. "You. Are. Not. Going. Near. My. Children. Or. Me. Again," she threatened. "Because, guess what buddy – you failed the test."

Hermione wondered if the woman was a squib because she seemed unperturbed by public magic displays. Though she still wanted to get up and tell the woman her children will be safe and sound. She wanted to help the woman now but the ridiculously persistent man behind her kept her sitting down.

"You have noble intentions to those children, I daresay," the voice whispered almost seductively in her ear. "You see a part of yourself in them, but," she felt his nose nudge into the crook of her neck and his lips touch her skin. "I am sure the mother would only call for your arrest if you marched right up to her and told the woman her darlings were actually going to go to a School that teaches Potions, rather than Science," his cane pinched into her spine. "Arithmancy instead of Mathematics," he dragged the snakes head part of the cane down her back making her arch out slightly and bite her lower lip; worrying it so wonderfully he was tempted to apparate with her to a secret house only reserved for Mistresses. "Transfiguration instead of English. Where Charms does not necessarily mean well mannered," she felt his lips curve against the tip of her ear, "and where Physical Education means being taught how to ride a broomstick."

"What if she is a squib?" Hermione asked as she watched the man storm out of the park realising his latest meal ticket was lost.

"Hmm, interesting possibility," the way he enunciated each word caused her throat to run dry and her mind turn to mush. There was no sense in all this but she could not help but feel somewhat flattered by his attentions, as salacious as they were. "Though could you risk that?"

Sighing, cursing that he was right she snapped. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I thought we had come to some sort of understanding," he blew on her neck noticing, with enormous pleasure, that she moaned a little. Her heightened sensuality was just delightful to behold. "My first name is Lucius," here he tickled the back of her head with his nose. Nuzzling into the soft, glorious curls making her judder beneath him. "I want to hear you say my name," he whispered.

"Lucius," she mumbled. Allowing his hand to caress her shoulders, not caring that his fingers were pulling the puffy sleeves of her floral blouse to slide down her arm trailing hot, lingering, kisses to her shoulder blades in their wake. "Lucius!" she hissed.

"That's better," he purred. Continuing his massage of her slight but soft shoulders knowing that was what she loved. "As to why I am here," he kissed the side of her neck causing her to flush. "I wanted to put your lovely little mind at rest, _my_ lusty mudblood," he rested his chin on her shoulder. Hermione resisted the urge to lean an arm up and over to stroke his beautifully kept hair. "It was not _I_ that killed that muggle child," he kissed a small spot between the lobe and the hairline beside her ear, "or played any part of that ungainly massacre."

"I do not believe you," her voice faltered. Legs gave way beneath her even though she was sitting down.

"Why would I go on a reckless drinking binge and kill when," he scraped the snake cane up to where her rough plait ended flicking it aside to reveal more creamy flesh which he proceeded to nuzzle his nose into before scorching her with his lips. "I was made supremely happy in your arms just mere hours before," here he noticed Hermione whimper with his attentions. "When I was still drunk on your," here he buried his nose in shell of her ear. "Pert young breasts," he whispered, revelling in her moan. "On your," his fingers curved around her throat, kneading the soft flesh beneath the collarbone, "essence."

"You are a son of a bitch," Hermione said through her panting. "All you do is crap out arcane idylls that no longer have meaning from your slippery, deceitful, mouth."

Instead of turning him into a seething mass of rage Lucius chuckled deeply against her causing her body to tingle and shiver all over. "If you give me a chance, Hermione," he sighed, pressing his lips against the hollow of her cheek, "I will show you precisely how _slippery_ my tongue is."

"You disgraced me," she leant her head back allowing him to glance down her blouse. Why was she acting like she enjoyed his foul intentions? No spell was cast. Yet it was like he had her under some form of ancient dark enchantment that she could not counter-curse, "you made me commit a vile and traitorous act!"

" _Made_ you do?" the chuckle was low, dirty and poisonously dangerous for her rapidly fast paced beating heart. Not to mention her core. "I believe you kissed me back," he sighed nibbling her ear. "Wrapped your sweet little arms around my back," now he was circling the cane around the muscular structure of her back. "Hugged my hips with your shapely legs," now she felt his other hand in the more unruly parts of her hairdo. "Clenched my wand yearningly with your sheath," a nip on her neck, what was he doing? This was a public place? People knew her here. She was already considered a freak as it was. To have this older man practically seduce her, driving her to orgasm without touching – just by his words – was salaciously delicious. Oh yes, his tongue was slippery alright! "You panted, groaned, moaned, sucked, touched, tasted and _screamed_ my name so passionately that I still hear it in my head now."

"How did you know where I was?"

"I do work at the Ministry," he whispered, now his hand had slipped to her bicep. The longest finger brushed against the outer of her breast. Betrayed by her body yet again as she felt the glands quiver within her. "I have sources that will be bribed so easily."

"Pigs!"

"Quite agree," he sighed. "You are not one to bribe, or be bought, are you?"

As she was about to answer a group of girls Hermione's age sauntered past. Adorned by various coloured, tight, strappy vest tops. With daisy duke style shorts that barely covered their backsides. Lucius thought they were the worst form of Muggle. Uniform. Sheep, Hermione thought nastily. Giggling over the latest hot kid at their school whilst eating ice cream. One of them narrowed her eyes as she walked past Hermione. Where had Lucius gone? Not that she cared. Hermione had years of experience handling this tart.

"Oh, look, it's Nerd Hedge!"

"Come on, Arabella," rolling her eyes as well as pressing her tongue against her cheek. Hermione gave the girl before her a fierce stare. Lucius noted that if there were no such rules where Magic was restricted to youths during the holidays Hermione would have most certainly hexed this disgusting Muggle into the next millennium. Not to mention what she could have done to that so-called excuse for a father. Pointless Law, he mused, if this girl was allowed full use of her potential then she would be a fine example of how Hogwarts can teach their darling little wards. What is the point of learning if one cannot apply what they are being taught in situations like this? He still insisted on blowing the back of her neck. "Are we not a little too old to resort to six year old nicknames."

"Did Nerd Hedge try to talk?" leered Arabella, "I could not hear her over her hair!" the girls with her laughed.

"Now," he sighed, "you won't stand for that, will you?" he slipped his tongue slightly in her ear.

Power surged and waved within her, Lucius groaned in almost a minor orgasm from her force. Cogs turned and clicked in Hermione's mind as he observed her narrow her eyes. The same contempt she offered him in Flourish and Blotts. Aggravating on a 13 year old but so much more alluring on a 17 year old. Even if, to the rest of the World, she was 14. Gulping down her shudder as she felt his hand leave her body.

Elegantly, his favourite mudblood rose up from the rickety bench. Lips twitched into a dark smirk as he watched her sway her hips slowly. Stalking her prey the way a true lioness would. Now he turned his attention to the girl on the receiving end of Hermione's wrath. Bored by her looks with five minutes. Rather plastic looking, resembling that ghastly toy he had seen Muggle girls walk around with, this was so unevenly matched. Still, Lucius old boy, he grinned just enjoy the show, eh? He was pleased that he was wearing a Distraction charm so no one could easily see him but feel that someone was watching. A charm he had perfected and patented himself.

Somehow Lucius took especial joy when Mudbloods squared up with their Muggle tormentors. Privileged was he at this point in time to be witnessing the best Mudblood Hogwarts ever held within her walls take down the sort of Muggle girl he abhorred to the fibre of his being. Lazily he brushed his hand down his twitching shaft: Not today chap, he sighed. We need for her to enjoy our company now. Muggles, to Lucius Malfoy, were nothing more than fodder for the worms. At least Muggleborns had the sense to be born magical.

With his vantage point Lucius noticed, finally, what the delectable young woman was arrayed in. Licking his lips as his languid gaze appreciated Hermione's arraignment. The pretty, frilly, white skirt was shorter than the creation she had worn by the lake. Strappy green sandals encased her feet: Tut tut, he shook his head with a crocodilian grin, you seem to want to tempt me my dear. Then again, green does suit you so well. Another tight fitting blouse wrapped around her willing, compliant body. Floral, he sighed. Bold pink roses against a cream background with bubble sleeves that he loved slipping down her arms.

There was no denying it, Hermione was crackling with mischief. Hermione stopped in front of the one called Arabella. Fortuitously, the Witch found something on the floor that would suit her purpose. A skull clip dropped by a goth at some point. Shrugging her shoulders Hermione faced Arabella.

"OOOOO Nerd Hedge is coming close – we can't let her touch us!" Arabella sneered. Still, Hermione swayed her hips. Grinning malevolently, Hermione raised her arm up. "WE DON'T WANT NERD DISEASE!"

"LUXOR," she hissed with such venom that Lucius found it hard to control his little chap! Now she lowered her arm aligning it with the centre of Arabella's body, "NESTOR," she said in the same vein. Closing his eyes, Lucius let out a minor moan as he tended to the hardness in his trousers due to the hiss in her voice. Hermione smiled as she stopped at the girls eyes, "Burst!" she snarled, pulling the clip to the east, "and BURN!" this said as she landed westwards. Through hooded lids, Lucius watched as she then grabbed Arabella's hand and placed the clip in the palm closing her fingers around it.

"Yuck, what are you doing?" one of Arabella's lackeys squeaked, terrified of his Mistress.

"Just a curse, have a nice day!" Hermione said breezily. Holding in his wood, Lucius chuckled at the last few words and would use them next he hexed someone.

Immediately, Arabella paled and dropped the clip like it was burning a hole in her hand, "N-no s-such t-thing a-as c-curses," Arabella stammered.

Tilting her head, Hermione's eyes took on a glaze that Lucius knew all too well. Shining with mischief and dark sarcasm. My dear cat, he chuckled, the claws are out. As is my little Wand. He began rubbing furiously as he observed Hermione become ever more evil in her eyes. Throwing her hands up in the air tossing her head back Hermione moaned in an unearthly manner: "Oh sun; my lover! Moon my husband! I do beseech thee thy wisdom on this poor spiritless louse;" Oh Merlin, Hermione, you are wonderful and my little wand agrees. Hand motions were picking up their pace as he heard her moan. "Who doth plague her mind with ignorance. Do, please, show that there art indeed more things in heaven than there is on Earth that we mere Mortals can tap into," she lowered her head keeping her hands thrust towards the sky. Her voice still shaking and groaning in wracking guttural groans. He had to use both hands if he was to achieve success. Imagining her sweet little sheath hugging his all. Whilst she was riding above him. Eyes rolled back in his head. Good job no one could hear him unless he wanted them too! "The sun and moon have spoken to me, they have said: _Arabella Medhurst must indeed be punished for her lack of faith – that she shall have to circle her bed seven times clockwise, in the morning, seven times anti-clockwise, in the twilight for the curse to truly leave her soul_. Only if she shows this test of faith then may her skin not become green."

More my sweet tormentor, Lucius hissed, toy with this incompetent bitch more. You are a lovely little play thing, Hermione. Tease her mercilessly.

"You're b-bluffing."

"May every other tooth not turn black."

Panting he had to lean against a nearby tree as he found the rhythm he so desired with his hands whilst imagining her taunting mouth around him.

"S-stop it!"

"May she not grow boils on her arms and legs."

Carry on, darling. I am almost there. You play so well with these imbeciles. How can I not want your essence – your fluid – lubricating me as I thrust deep and hit home? That's it, little Wand. I know you like her.

"A-all r-right," Arabella stammered, tentatively stepping back, looking at the back of her perfectly manicured hands.

"May her hair not fall out and may her nails not rot with infection!"

That is it, Hermione, you are making me laugh with your mocking of the girl. More, Hermione – threaten her with faux consequences – you have no idea what you're doing to me. The memory will keep me going for generations.

"Y-you a-are n-not f-frightening m-me."

"Only if she heeds the wise words of the sun and moon shall she be relieved of this curse."

Dearest, he sighed as he began squeezing his own now very ripe plums. Nearly there, sweetest treasure.

"Y-your l-lying."

Here Hermione's voice went dangerously cold as her eyes glittered mischievously taking a measured step, Hermione moved closer to Arabella. "Seven times; Seven times; Seven, Arabella," she hissed in a perfect imitation of Professor Snape.

I will do that sum on you, Hermione my dear. Hissing a breath over his teeth he squeezed out his self manipulated orgasm. By Hermione's actions. The sway of her hips. He risked looking at her. Realizing she was not quite done he continued rubbing hoping for a second come.

"I d-don't b-believe y-you."

Now Hermione's eyes took on more of a dangerous element to them as she shook her head in an almost pityingly manner: "Oh and I forgot one other thing," she examined her nails like one had just annoyingly chipped whilst she was filing them into shape, "you must then find a frog or toad and kiss it after each time."

With a final pinching squeeze Lucius flung his head back against the tree and bucked his hips forward giving in to his own desire.

"I w-won't d-do i-it."

One of Arabella's girl friends coughed a little: "Remember," she said cautiously, eyeing Hermione warily, "when she _did_ make a wart grow on your nose, Bells?"

With a final groan that would have earned him disapproving looks if anyone could hear Lucius stood, supported by the trunk, exhausted but still merry. The torture was not over but he could hold off until it was.

"And," another supplied taking a step backwards, prepared to run, "when she made your lips swell?"

"When she turned your..." the final was about to mention something disturbing but in her hurry to get away from the scary Granger girl she tripped over the same tree root that Lucius was hiding behind and landed on her backside, wincing with pain. Hurriedly, her two comrades helped her up.

"All right! Seven times; seven times; seven and kiss a frog and toad I got it!" Arabella said very quickly.

"Well," Hermione sighed impatiently, "Boo!"

Screaming; the Muggle girls ran off in wild panic, to make sure that the freak did not do anything serious to them. Laughing, Hermione chuckled: "Too easy!" Making her way back to the bench she decided to do an impromptu cartwheel. Probably not a wise thing to do in her white skirt but she felt the need to do it. "Now, lets see how the Muggleborns are doing," she sighed sitting back on the bench. Hoping that those children were not going to meet girls like Arabella as they grew up. A deep chuckle sounded behind her: "That was splendid entertainment, what do you do for an encore?"

"They're silly," Hermione said.

"Indeed they are," Lucius sighed. He was back in the same position as if they had not been interrupted. Resuming his massage with the snake head cane on her back.

"It is not cruel but it teaches _them_ a lesson." Them? Since when did she think of Muggles as _them_? The contempt served only to awaken the little chap. It only took full fulfilment when pumped dry by a Witch's Venus fly trap! "I thought you'd gone?" she murmured as her body tingled with his lips now on the back of her neck as he pushed her plait aside again to kiss between her shoulder blades.

"I was hardly going to miss watching you interact with those that shaped you before Hogwarts," he whispered. The rustling of fabric made Hermione catch her breath in her throat. "We could apparate," he purred, "I could take you somewhere that is more private. I do not fancy making love on the ground all the time."

All the time? How often did he think they were going to meet like this? Nerves and defiance took over. Checking her watch, Hermione sighed: "Do you know it I have to be home soon," she said getting up.

Spinning on her heel she turned around to face him, he had only wanted _her_ to see him through the Distraction charm when he would expect maximum impact. Oh Gods, she felt her heart fluttering in her chest. In all his Sun King glory, Lucius Malfoy stood casually against the tree. Her fingers itched to run through the golden locks framing his Aristocratic countenance. The arched eyebrow and smirk she should despise turned her knees to jelly. Ice blue eyes gazing at her with nothing but naughty intentions, burning into her soul. Muscular, fit and dripping with sexiness. No robes. No heavy jackets. Heart sped a touch fast at the sight of him wearing a white silk with silver celtic stitching, drawstring tunic – left alluringly open to reveal that throat she had nipped. Those shoulders she clutched onto. Remembering the arms that held her with such ferocity and warmth. Hermione felt her blush travel further down her neck as her eyes flickered south down his body. Balling her hands into fists as Hermione had to try and control her urge to wrap her legs around his firm wide hips. Lean shapely legs wrapped in nothing but a pair of deep red dragon skin trousers and matching slightly heeled boots only accentuating how long they were. Silver rings adorned his hands, glittering in the sunshine, a strange mirror of his eyes. One held a ruby. The other a cold sapphire flashed catching Hermione's attention due to the irony of the matching glint in the darkening irises. Blushing as she remembered that hand felt parts she had not touched herself before he had awoken the need within her.

Standing against the tree, arms folded, with his cane pressed against his chest. Legs were crossed below the knee and the whole rakish form just sent her into palpitations. Was this how Cathy felt with Heathcliff? Gather your senses, Granger, she chided inwardly. The memory of being under his body as those hips danced. Panther like grace as he circled her body. Filled her entire world. Flooded back to her in full volume, 3D, technicolor, surround sound – the effect almost knocked her knees from under her.

"Like what you see, Hermione?" he grinned. "I meant it though, what do you do for an encore?"

"I am glad you found that petty display of power over ignorance diverting but I have books to read."

With that she was about to turn back around and flounce out of the park on her way home but he grabbed her elbow and pulled her behind a rather old oak tree that was in the darkest corner of the park. Gruffly, he swung her around. Then slammed her back against the bark causing Hermione to wince: "When I said I wanted to have my own _encore_ ," he sneered, "I did not mean having to wait another minute when I finally found some time to play with you," suddenly he crushed his lips against her quibbling mouth. Harshly forcing it open. Not waiting for pleasantries, Lucius dived his tongue into her sweet, oh so pleasurable, mouth. "I gave you two weeks," he panted, brushing hair from her face. Twinkling sky blue eyes now turned slate grey. "To mourn and gather yourself from the after match debacle," here he grabbed her breast in his heavy, well practised hand. "I _need_ you, Hermione," here he thrust against her skirt and she felt how _much_ he needed her. "By Merlin I...!"

"Hermione!" another voice, "where is she? I thought I saw her."

Cursing under his breath, "Muggles and their imperfect timing!" Lucius eyes scared Hermione. For she had recognised the voice. This was going to break her heart. "Another foolish one like that gang of shallow girls?"

"No," she whispered "a friend, we were always close."

"Fine, divert your friend," he pushed her around the tree making sure she had not looked too aroused. Then he peered around. Observing her with calm assurance. All his distrust aimed at the unknowing boy. What Lucius saw made his jaw slack, shaking his head in disbelief, surely Severus did not have a Muggle son? With extreme discontent, he noticed Hermione was animatedly chatting to him. Rubbing the pup's arm and stroking his cheek. "She failed to mention the crush on the said friend," he grumbled, grinding his teeth as he watched her drool on this insignificant boy that disconcerted him.

"Steve," she sighed taking hold of his hand. "I heard about your parents, I'm so sorry."

"They had not been getting along for awhile now," Steve sighed. Black hair held a bluish tinge in the sunlight. "Did I see you and Arabella playing?"

"Playing is one term for it," Hermione slapped Steven's arm laughing. To Lucius disgust she was blushing for this Muggle. "I was nicer than I ought to have been."

"What did you make her do this time?"

So, the goody goody Gryffindorian Lioness, best friends with Harry Potter, bookworm and model student: liked to tease and play with Muggles did she? He wondered how many sumptuously imaginative ways his little Mistress had tricked that vacuous bitch into relieving so many cunningly deceptively fraudulent curses?

"Walk around her bed seven time clockwise in the morning; seven times anti clockwise in the twilight and kiss a frog or toad after each time."

"Really," Steve chuckled. Even the gleam in the boy's eyes resembled Snape. It made Lucius just a touch suspicious. "That was pure gold, Hermione," he wrapped her in his arms in a tight hug. "Priceless."

"Thanks," Hermione leant into her friends hug. Leather divinely assaulted her nostrils. Mixed with a hint of a cardamom, salt, something floral and definitely mint. Suddenly, she wondered what it would be like with him. "Why were you looking for me?"

"I was at your home to ask you for one last movie sesh," he said, tucking a stray coil of hair behind her ear tenderly. An action that caused Hermione to blush and raise her own hand to where his had previously touched, "this may be the last time I will ever see you."

"There are two weeks left of the holiday," Hermione said. "There's next year."

"No," Steve sighed cupping her chin in his pale long fingers gazing deeply into her eyes, "there won't be."

"Steve... I still want to be friends with you."

"It will be pretty hard when you go to a school you can't even tell me the name of," Steve bumped his forehead against hers and gulped down. Tears fell unbidden from the corner of his dark eyes, "I have to go to Canada."

"C-Canada. W-why?"

"Oh Hermione," Steve pressed his lips against hers. Teasingly, gently. Wrapping his arms around her waist massaging up her spine so his fingers eventually led to her hair which he fisted into her thick plait as Hermione opened her mouth allowing him in. Circling her own tongue inside his musky tasting mouth. Taking the hint, Steven grabbed onto Hermione's hair so fiercely that she moaned his name as their lips throbbed with passion. Ignoring the glares. The few cat calls and whistles as Hermione buried her fingers in his lank black locks. "I have to," he panted. "Because that's where my father's work is and I am not speaking to my mother."

"NO!" Burying her sobs against his black shirt. Arms slipped down. Curling her fingers into the lapels of his leather jacket. Steven's hands now wrapped around her waist and pulled her against him. Oh no, she had caused him to harden. "We were going to get married, remember?" she mumbled.

"I was 8 and you were 6 when we said that," Steven pressed his lips to the top of Hermione's head. Sending shivers of delight down her back. "But you know what," he tilted her chin up and continued studying her face, knowing this was the last time he was ever going to gaze upon it, "it would have been fun."

"When do you have to go?"

"If you were at home I could have spent more time with you but I have to go tomorrow," he said. "I have to pack, make sure I have everything; go to sleep … Hermione," Steven held her at arms length and earnestly looked at her. "You hold a wonderful gift. I do not know what it is, but you do," Hermione gazed tearfully, into his glittering eyes. Stomach lurched and twisted inside her when she was reminded of Professor Snape. Kinder, younger but still – Snape-ish enough to be his son. The man cannot be a virgin, after all, despite how Harry and Ron felt about him. Hermione could not deny Professor Snape is intelligent, wise and she trusted him. Not just because Headmaster Dumbledore did, but she actually trusted him in her own heart. "I hope you win whatever fights you are part of," they clashed lips again in a frenzied swirl of adolescent heartache. "I hope this Harry and Ron treat you right," he petted her nose with feathery light touches, "I also hope you blow that prat Damien Molloy out of the water!" Laughing, Hermione sniffed back her tears. Tenderly, Steven wiped them away from her eyelashes. "Remember what the great David Bowie said?" Shaking her head, Hermione wanted nothing more than to make love to Steven. If she were braver she would have grabbed his hand and dragged him to her home and had him in the hallway. "You remind me of a babe," he winked.

"Babe with a power."

"The power of voodoo," he sighed, "we would have had so much fun, wouldn't we?"

"Come back to mine!" Hermione heard herself say.

Blinking Steven looked at her with his jaw open wide: "Hermione, I just said..."

"If this is the last time we're going to see each other then come back to mine?"

"You mean... like... you and me..."

"Yes."

"Whilst I would love to have the hottest girl on the Planet, I would prefer it not to be a childish fumble on the bedsheets."

"I know what I'm doing."

Steven was knocked sideways by that response: "Hermione," he dragged her in a hug and buried his arms in her curls and she held onto him tightly – not wanting to let him go. "I wish I could," he sighed. "I do," he kissed her nose, "but I respect you too much to get you into any kind of trouble."

"I love you!"

"I love you too," Steven sighed. "Unlike Jareth with Sarah, you do have power over me. I feel that if we were to have sex," he brushed aside hair from her face, "I would not want you to go back to this Harry and Ron and keep you all to myself."

"I hate growing up."

"Yeah, life sucks, doesn't it?" he rested his cheek on her head and they stayed in their youthful untainted lover's embrace for several moments. "I have to go, Hermione," he sighed. "I will never forget you."

Reluctantly – slowly, Steven stepped away from Hermione and closed his eyes squeezing the tears out. After a few doddering steps, swaying with sorrow, Steven took one last look at the back of Hermione's head and was on the verge of changing his mind. If Hermione had turned her head he probably would have. Instead, she stood there, hugging her own arms as tightly around her waist in an effort to control her own broken heart. Steven shook his head and ran for it before Hermione risked a sad tear-filled gaze at the spot where she knew he must have hesitated. "I won't forget you either," she sighed brushing tears away.

It was then she felt his arms around her and she tensed up: "I'm not in the mood for your games right now."

"Damien?" he questioned. "How did you know that is what he was almost called?"

"I did not but not many people in the Muggle world are called Draco," she huffed. "Other names did not suit him that began with D."

"That Muggle probably did the most sensible thing I have watched a Muggle do."

"What's that?"

"See you as a Power and respect you for having it."

"He was the only one who ever treated me as an equal, I was never the insufferable know it all, or a geek. Or bookish. Bushy haired... Steven was the only one in my whole life to make me feel comfortable in my own skin and he was the one that taught me how to embrace that."

"He actually seems intelligent."

"He is and I hope he achieves his goal."

"What's that?"

"Save and house rare species of Snakes and Reptiles."

At this Lucius Malfoy arched an eyebrow: "A worthy goal indeed," he sighed. Almost tenderly, Lucius pulled her back behind the tree and made her step back as she hit against the bark again. "I will see you again," he murmured against her swollen lips. Without warning he separated her legs and cupped her crotch through her skirt in his hands stroking it so well Hermione whimpered as she clamped his arm around her thighs: "Your body betrays you yet again, Hermione," he murmured. Slowly, he withdrew his hand from her seam. "I will find a way into your sweet nectar filled cup again." Scared, Hermione risked a glance into his eyes and it was clear he was not happy that he had witnessed her kissing a Muggle boy. Once his long fingers scraped against her now aching bud she hissed and bit her lower lip to stop her from yelling his name. "Not a word to anyone about this," he whispered smashing his mouth against hers not giving her a chance to recover from their illicit touches. "That inane Muggle girl, Arabella," the tone changed to one of cordiality, almost like he did care for her other than a bit of skirt. The seduction was over thankfully. "I _could_ gently curse her..."

"No," Hermione said though a tug of a sneer on her lips belied her refusal. Chuckling dirtily, Lucius tilted her chin up. "I mean it!"

"I know you don't," his eyes sparkled with his knowing authoritative tone. Making her knees buckle again as he tilted his head to kiss her once more. Hermione mirrored his action as her lips parted. Diving in deep, Lucius swirled around her, tasting her as he would elsewhere. Gathering as much of Hermione as he could to savour.

"You bastard!" she moaned, as his hand hitched her skirt up further. This time groping her sex with his fingers through her panties. "I wish you would explain this spell you seem to have on me." Okay, that decided that! Lucius had not actually forced her into doing something she hated. He was right. She was willing for him to be her lover that time. Probably, she sighed as she bucked against his hand, I would always be entranced by one Lucius Malfoy.

"The spell I weave on you Hermione is not one of Magic," he whispered inside her mouth, "but one that only two people can create," her forehead now resting on his shoulder as her legs shivered beneath her. "One that is built within," dipping his finger inside her as if preparing her for his Wand, as he called it. Hermione nipped his shoulder to stop her from screaming. This was incredibly public. Extremely illegal. Wanton. Harlotry. Perverted. So, why did she enjoy it so much? Pumping his fingers within her excessively wet core. "I will take my pleasure from you," he growled in her ear, "for now, I am thoroughly enjoying your reaction to my hand," the helpless whimpering just served to make Lucius want her to ride his fingers. "Come for me, Hermione, I want to hear you helplessly murmur my name."

"Lucius," she nipped beneath his ear as she bucked and rolled her legs against his arm. "Oh Merlin! Oh Gods!" Lucius watched her roll her head back against the tree as her hips jerked forward.

Smirking like the snake he was, Lucius felt her walls clench ever tighter against his hand. He could feel her ready to come. "Come for me, Witch!" he growled as his final harsh thrust met with grinding hips: "Now!"

Feeling her abdomen tighten, a flush of that now familiar heat shuddered through her body as she moaned out his name with a wild look in her eyes. Hair all over the place and Lucius felt her essence drip down his hands. Trickling down his arm. Slowly, causing her another minor orgasm, he slipped his hand away from her. Silently, Lucius cleaned only her up. Smiling with glee at how utterly feral she looked. A dangerous gleam entered his eyes as he licked his fingers and smacked his lips together: "The finest wine available is that from a willing and beautiful woman," then he stepped away allowing her to recover. Panting. Unable to stand for awhile as she was weak from her unexpected but, and she let tears fall, admittedly not unwelcome orgasm. "You are certainly from an extremely fine year, Hermione."

"How can you say I am attracted to you?" she tried to keep the sadness from her voice.

"Next time we act," Lucius placed a hand just above her head, with the other he tilted her chin up, "I will show you proof from your own eyes," he sighed as he stood her steady on her feet. Taking the distraction as an opportunity to devour her mouth again, drinking her completely: "Gods Hermione!" he panted. "You're my addiction!"

With that he let go off her and silently apparated. Leaving Hermione feeling emotionally battered. If only Steve was not so damn honourable. He may have looked like Professor Snape but he acted like Harry Potter. With Steve gone, Hermione made her lonely way home. Lucius had ordered her to tell no one but Hermione Jean Granger did not work like that. No, she could not tell Dumbledore about this. Neither could she see her heroine and head of house lest the school blows up in Minerva's rage.

The only course for her was Professor Snape. He was used to humiliating her anyway. Used to sneering with contempt. She was used to his disappointment and exasperation. Professor Snape would not care if she was being propositioned by his friend. As a Teacher though, he may take the matter seriously enough not to mock her, and help her protect herself against Lucius Malfoy's wonderful kisses. Taking her keys out of her bag to let herself in, Hermione sighed as she tried to imagine Professor Snape's face.

In fact, she sighed, as she flopped her back on her bed and stared up at her ceiling, Professor Snape would probably take points off Gryffindor and hand her detention. How could she convince him to see her? When? Yet writing an owl to Professor Snape filled her with even more dread than having a less than acceptable mark on her essays. There was Remus but no one knew where he was. As much as she respected Sirius for being Harry's Godfather she felt that telling him would blow his cover in his search for revenge. This was one problem she just had to sit on her hands on until she was back at school.

The next two weeks seemed to crawl by as she became snappy and irritable. Even declaring to a shocked Ginny that she was not looking forward to going to school. The only one who took her moods in their stride. Asked no questions. Yet, surreptitiously peered over his glasses every now and again, was Arthur Weasley. Molly also picked up on the signals her husband had indirectly sent her way as she gazed upon Hermione with shocked eyes. Someone had meddled with her and Molly would jinx the man to hell over it. From then on, Hermione either found herself engulfed in Molly's arms, or being smiled kindly upon by Arthur.

They were not the only ones that were worried.

Unnoticed by everyone a pair of green eyes followed her. Gazed upon her. Keeping quiet as he observed how different his friend was behaving. A sway of her hips. A smirk on the lips. The way she tossed her hair. It was not only that but she seemed to make innuendo's that made Ron blush and there were her eyes: Sparkling, twinkling, filled with some kind of knowledge that he was not yet ready to explore... in short, he began to view Hermione as a woman and not a girl.

Hermione felt happy once she reached Hogwarts. Home! She sighed, and where I will be safe from the wandering hands and explorative tongue of one silver blond; Byron-esque, Wizard who makes me forget any kind of sense! As she entered the hall, she searched out for a pair of black, glittering eyes. Once she found them, she saw that they were already gazing at her – why did he arch his eyebrow at her? Now she had been close to Steven, almost wonderfully close, she really could see the similarities. What if...

No...

… Impossible! Shaking her head Hermione sat down in her usual position – between Harry and Ron. Still she felt her scalp burning – briefly, she glanced up and saw Professor Snape's eyes trained on her and she blushed as she quickly looked back down again. Did he know already? Had Lucius bragged about managing to seduce the stupid little mudblood pet of Potter's? Why would it be otherwise?

Then she turned her gaze to Malfoy Jr. Blue eyes gleamed at her, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat. How could she have forgotten what he said to Harry: _When you find her - tell her I want to talk to her. Immediately_. It appeared Draco still wanted to have that word with her...

Whatever guise or subterfuge she used to get Professor Snape to see her withered out of her brain as she decided that she would just have to trust that he would speak with her if she asked. If Harry and Ron were not loitering behind the door he may give her the time of day. Distracted Hermione toyed with the food. I will see Professor Snape tomorrow, she decided, in the Lunch hour. I will find a way.

Then all the excitement took over from the representatives of Durmstrang and Beauxbaton came in with their Heads. Still, Hermione could not get Lucius Malfoy's eyes out of her head. How he dressed. The feel of his lips on hers. Thighs pressed between her sex...

"Hermione!" Harry yelled waving a hand up and down her face. "Earth to Hermione!"

"S-sorry," Hermione hissed. She knew she could not leave until the teachers said so. There where first years to lead and help. "I've just got a lot on my mind that is all."

"We can help," Ron said rubbing up and down her back. "That's what we're here for."

"I am sorry, Ron," she sighed, "but this inner troll cannot be fought with sheer dumb luck," tears threatened to fall down her cheeks. "I j-just..." suddenly, she burst out in vehement sobs as Harry and Ron wrapped their arms around her shoulders. Soon Neville stopped eating and leaned over to hold her hand. Lavender and Parvati quickly got up and ran around the table to join in the group hug. Eventually, as many Gryffindors as possible engulfed their favourite Princess in hugs. All Hermione could do was sob out her broken heart.

They all felt their arms being removed by Professor McGonagall, who had noticed her unofficial favourite student in emotional pain, long before she was being somewhat suffocated by her well meaning peers. "Miss Granger," she said, "I will take you to the Tower and you get yourself to bed, you hear?"

"Shall we come," Harry said standing up.

"No, Mr Potter," the matronly woman smiled, "you stay where you are. Though Miss Patil could accompany us."

Immediately, Miss Patil took to Hermione's other side, aiding the quivering girl to their dorm: "Achieve!" the Professor whispered as the Fat Lady's portrait swung open. From then on Parvati took over.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Parvati asked brushing Hermione's hair out of her face. "You can tell me."

Instead of answering a fresh wave of emotion engulfed the bushy haired girl. All Parvati, and later Lavender, could do was surround her with comforting hugs. Whatever had occurred during the holiday's must have hit their friend hard. Tears drowned her eyes and his voice whispered in her ears: _Tell no one_. Screw that Malfoy, she shuddered against Lavender who decided that they should share a bed in case Hermione's grief was more serious. I will tell! I will confide how disgraced I feel in the lust you have forced upon me. How you ravished me of all coherent logic. On how you took my virginity without batting an eyelid.

No one in Hermione's year slept well that night. All were worried for their lovely, compassionate, kind hearted friend. Most of all Neville Longbottom. Who had been harbouring a crush on her for awhile now. In fact the boys decided, as they all could not sleep they may as well wake up and talk about how they guessed some bloke had hurt their lioness. All vowing to hex the Wizard who caused their dear Witch to shatter into tears. That was just Harry's room. The twins and Lee were already plotting strategies and Ginny and some of her friends also talked. It would have been pretty damn clear that the Wizard or Witch who had caused her this much anguish would have to face the Lions Pride. For their Queen was hurt!

Yet all Hermione could do was stare wide eyed in the darkness with shining eyes and determination in her heart. For the first time in her life she was grateful that Lavender was a hugger. If she had not had that extra support Hermione may have broken school rules just to confess to Professor Snape right now. Though, would he really care? Or be shocked? Does it matter? He is a Slytherin, and I have to fight with the tools available to me. I will just endure the sneers and tuts he will direct my way. I cannot carry this on my own.

Still, she wiped yet more angry tears from her face, I am determined. I will confide in the one man you least expect I would do!


	3. I Don't Like Mondays

**Under the surface**

 _He always said she was as good as gold_ _ **  
**_ _And he can see no reason 'cause there are no reasons_ _ **  
**_ _What reason do you need to be shown?_

( **Boomtown Rats** – _I Don't Like Mondays_ )

 **I Don't Like Mondays**

Monday 5th of September 1994 was a date now marked in Hogwarts history. The corridors murmured with the shocking news that Hermione Granger, resident Swot, had failed an entire class. Not only did she never raise her hand which harnessed speculation. Her red rimmed eyes and sallow complexion almost caused titters in their own right. That was not what had caused the loud whispers to become a crescendo of gossip amongst the halls. For the insufferable know-it-all, bookworm, eager beaver student – had botched a spell!

Spectacularly! So badly that even Neville had to come to her aid. Everywhere she walked she heard the dark murmurs of suspicion that maybe Little Miss Perfect had _other distractions_ – said in tones that implied heavily what nature those distractions took. The ones that Ron and Harry could hear were met with vicious, protective scowls on their faces. Once Harry's startling green eyes glittered threateningly at fellow students. Scar prominent on his forehead. The gossip in that quarter stopped and the students scurried off in their own alcove.

Normally, Professor Flitwick who was quite unflappable, showed something of concern towards Hermione. Many a staffroom conversation were Flitwick imparting his jealousy of Minerva to have Miss Granger under the Gryffindor banner rather than the one he felt she truly belonged. Ravenclaw was more her speed he secretly felt. During these discussions Sprout chided and goaded Flitwick that, actually, her loyalty and compassion were more Hufflepuffian attributes and her house would have nurtured those lovable traits. Severus kept his own council, due to her blood status, it would be pointless to join in – though he loathed to admit it, she did also show the cunning and logic of a Slytherin. Minerva was obnoxiously proud of her cub and let the debates wash over her.

Of course, it was very well walking through corridors to the Great Hall for lunch but once in it was as if her entire year had decided to stop talking and look at her with mirrored expressions of undisguised shock and curiosity on their faces. The Slytherins leered nastily in her direction – it was clear it was they who set the implications in stone.

Grumbling Hermione turned to Harry: "I am not hungry."

"You have to eat something," Harry said concerned. He hated seeing Hermione like this. The cowering nature was something she rarely showed. Waspish he could take. Sarcasm was second nature to Hermione, and she had a plethora of Muggle and Wizard innuendo at her fingertips to draw inspiration from. Scary, definitely. So to see her walk away with embarrassment thrown Harry for a loop: "Come on, it is probably why..."

"Why what?" her voice rose.

"Why you..."

Narrowing her eyes Hermione stepped close to her friend wand pointing at his throat: "I dare you to finish that sentence, Potter," she hissed darkly pressing the point in his jugular. "Try."

Now the whole school was watching. Even Draco had to recover quickly. Did he hear and see right? That was not Granger's normal behaviour with scarhead.

"Hermione," Ron began.

Slowly, Hermione turned her head and glared at her other friend: "I would love to hear your views, _Weasley_ but you think food is the be all and end all."

"That's not true!" Ron blushed also raising his voice an octave. "I was about to say that you look like you could do with some sleep rather than some food and was prepared to walk you back to the tower and make sure you could nap before lessons."

Grinding her teeth together Hermione knew she should apologise. None of this was their fault. Neither was it fair on them that she could not confide in them. Shaking her head Hermione sighed and slumped: "I'm sorry, Ron," she said. "I need to see someone."

"Can we..."

"No!" she snapped. Then counting to twenty in German to soothe her nerves she opened her eyes and gazed at her two concerned friends and wrapped an arm around each of them: "no," she whispered. "This is something I am going to have to talk to someone knowledgable about to help me sort things out in my mind," with that she pecked each of them on the cheek and dashed out of the hall.

"Well, that was entertaining," Draco leered at her retreating back. "I would have preferred it if Potter got a bloody nose like I did!"

"I'll give you a bloody nose, prat!" Ron yelled as he was about to leap on the tables destroying several bowls of fruit.

It was up to Harry to keep Ron back by his robes and yank him on the bench: "I could have had him you know, Harry!"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "As well as 100 points off Gryffindor."

With that the two boys, still wondering what Hermione's problem was about, tucked into their garden salads. Quiches. Thick egg and cress sandwiches with freshly made bread. Piles of fruit and ice cream. Hand churned. "Shame Hermione is missing out on this," Ron muttered. "The ice cream's her favourite flavour."

* * *

Trying not to run down the twisted corridors to where she knew Professor Snape's office was. The only sound was the beat of Hermione's heart thudding through her body. Did she really have the right to inflict her problems on him? Especially after they had thwarted him, yet again, just mere months before. Gryffindor Courage, she sighed. Do not fail me now.

Standing outside his stark forbidding doors she closed her eyes, clutching hold of her wand as if it offered her comfort. Hugging some slim volumes she had taken from the library Hermione had to count to more than just twenty in the few languages she knew how before releasing a sigh. Tentatively, she tapped her knuckles against the door and gulped. No harder. Professor Snape had extremely good hearing, she did not need to ram down his door. After what seemed like an age Hermione heard feet moving about the other side of the door. With a last minute check over her shoulder to make certain that no one had followed her she rolled her shoulders around to ease her muscles. Slowly, she turned around to a sea of black velvet. Perfectly aligned buttons. Stern rough looking hands the only flesh visible through the sleeves where a peek of white shirt cuff caused Hermione to lose focus. As her eyes rested on those long, elegant fingers, Hermione wondered how they would feel like separating her folds as they caressed... Damn it, Malfoy, you've ruined me.

"May I help you, Miss Granger?" the sneer was not needed to be seen to be felt.

"Yes, Sir," she said squaring her shoulders and tilted her chin defiantly. "I need... advice."

Arching an eyebrow, Professor Snape stood aside and gestured for her to enter. The office was stark, cold. Spartan. Forbidding. Much like the man himself. Various pickled and preserved ingredients stood on shelves stewing in juices. An eye turned and looked at her. Mischievously winking at her. It served to place a smile on her lips.

"I assume this is something you do not wish Mr Potter or Mr Weasley to know?"

"Especially so," Hermione sighed, daring not to sit unless asked. "It is rather _delicate_."

How was she so calm? She had tossed and turned. Lost sleep. Could not eat for a fortnight. Burst into tears over the thought of this encounter.

"Then I suggest you sit down," Professor Snape said motioning towards a chair. Unsteadily, Hermione picked her feet up and made it to the chair without him snapping at her so she sat down. Keeping her back straight darting her eyes around the room. Professor Snape flicked aside his robe as he sank down on the chair opposite her. "If you need sleeping draughts and remedies to other _aches_ Madame Pomfrey is the best person to see in this establishment."

"No, it is nothing like that," Hermione blushed. "I had...," stop there Hermione. This is going to be embarrassing enough as it is. "That is to say...," did all Slytherins have private lessons in eyebrow arching, Hermione seethed. Scrunching her robes in her hands Hermione decided to be as vague as she could: "Have you heard of the Marriage of Figaro?"

"A rather nonsensical opera about a man trying to stop his Lord seducing his wife-to-be the night before their wedding even though he was, himself, married?"

"Exercising his _Droit de Seigneur,_ I understand it is called, or Rights of the Master?" Professor Snape now leaned back and looked at her as if he had only just registered her existence. Which he probably did. Imperceptibly, Professor Snape nodded his head. "Is there a similar arcane law that rich Pureblood families think they have a right to, you know, any young Witch or Wizard they desire no matter of what birth?"

"I believe some Purebloods have the sense of certain entitlements," Severus tilted his head as he began to realise that Miss Granger was trying to say something – confide in him – even though she despised him and was a Gryffindor? Why would she ask him these questions if she had no underlying purpose behind it? When she was away from the other two brats she was vaguely tolerable. "But it is not an actively pursued law," tilting his head with his private musings. Keeping his dark, raven eyes on her own tawny orbs. "Mostly the Ministry refuse to believe there ever was such a right, so it has never been contested or officially repealed."

Great, the bastard had not lied to her then on that score! "Um," she bit her lower lip and lowering her eyes, this next bit was going to be awkward as it was the instrument to his being thwarted just months previously: "You know, I was given the permission to use a certain artefact that allowed me to attain all the classes I wished to last year?"

"I was aware of you being given an instrument of significant power," Professor Snape sighed. Finally, I will get a decent answer rather than Dumbledore's twinkle and a shrug of his shoulders: "What was it, may I know?"

Well, she may as well be honest: "It was a Time-Turner."

"I see," and the old goat does it again. Manipulates those he purports to care about. Then another cold thought had crossed his mind. She would not have had access to such an instrument if it was not cleared through several channels. Ending at the Minister himself. Lucius Malfoy would have been pivotal for it to have landed on the Minister's desk. For all School Governors would have debated and signed, he was head of the table his decision went, and his opulent Ministry position would also have increased her chances tenfold. A man who had met her a year prior to the original application. This was not sitting well with Professor Snape and, for the first time in his life, he wanted to speak to Lupin. "A rather complicated piece of powerful magic entrusted to a 13 year old," he muttered, "can that fool become more irresponsible."

That was not meant to be said aloud, Hermione sighed, but she decided not to take offence. For once, Professor Snape had a valid point. Though she was not sure who the fool he alluded to was. "I was told, on receiving said item, that there were complications," gulping down her insecurity. Hermione tried not to let herself break down in front of this imposing man. Although she was certain he must have had crying girls in his office before. Even if he was the one that had made them do it. "That certain..." she sighed trying to think of the right word. "Avenues would be speeded up."

Unable to withstand his penetrating glare, she now buried her gaze so deeply into her lap that she felt as if he had called her here for detention instead of her coming of her own accord. "I suppose your _nature_ was the reason why you needed said Time Turner?"

"I could not decide which classes I wanted to take so I ticked the lot," Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I probably took triple the classes last year so I had to constantly go forwards and backwards in time." No interruption? No exasperated sigh? Where was the sarcastic eye rolling and ' _Serves you right for being such an Insufferable Know-It-All?'_ "Does this lend, or take away, age?"

"I suppose there is a point to all these questions?" Of course there was, Snape, he sighed. You knew that the moment she came into your office. He had been trying to get the information the easy way but she was surprisingly good at keeping him out of her mind. Part of that was the reason why she frustrated him so much. How could a Mug... No, he sighed, thinking like that is what got you in the situation you are now. Just accept that this girl has the chance to be your intellectual equal and the only reason why you treat her the way you do is that she was not around in your year as a Ravenclaw. "I ask because you must not miss your next lesson."

"It's History of Magic," Hermione sighed. "About as interesting and beguiling as watching a Muggle Soap Opera." The smirk that graced his lips lifted her heart. That she was able to at least make fun of at least one subject was refreshing. Gods did he know how banal they were. Her mother, for her sins, liked Coronation Street. "So, I am sure the Goblin Rebellions can await if need be."

"I am sure they could," he said. No purred. The way her eyes darkened at the sound of his voice worried him greatly. "Ahem," he cleared his throat. "Still, my next lesson is not open to such flexibility."

"Of course not," she flushed.

"So, are we nearing your winded explanation?"

The hurt in her eyes gutted him more than he cared to admit. "Yes, I just wish to know some answers before I came here to tell you what I _really_ have to tell you." Oh, did this man know how impossible he was? Why did he not want companionship? Am I so bad that he would rather I just come right out with it without any background? I thought Slytherins appreciated tact. "I was told to confide in no one but I have to..." there were tears in her eyes and shame evident in her posture.

This set his heart on ice: Told by... who? What could she not want... in his experience that was said by victims. Victims of abuse. Of physical or... the blood froze in his veins as he thought of Miss Granger – insufferable she may be – innocent though, and one in his care. A muggleborn Gryffindor. Top scoring Witch. How he hated someone's innocence being stripped of them. What could... who... Her manner. Droit de Seigneur? Time Turner having to be signed twice by... NO! Shaking his head out of his reverie he realised Miss Granger was still talking.

"... I have already snapped at Harry and Ron when Harry suggested I eat something," she sighed again. How often in a conversation can a person sigh. "Then Ron was being so kind and offered to walk me back to the Tower to allow me have a nap instead, an amazing empathetic act from him," she smiled. "I snapped. Blaming them for this secret problem that has been churning around," lifting her gaze she realised that Professor Snape was seriously listening to her. "I failed at a charm so badly this morning due to this _situation_ that Neville had to show me what to do." The last thing she expected to hear was Professor Snape to laugh. Actually, properly laugh. His dark bird like eyes twinkled with mirth as he did so. Suddenly Hermione felt her heart quicken within her soul. Wow, he should laugh more often he looks so much better. Deep throated from the depths of his being. Then it brought to mind how Lucius Malfoy's chuckle felt as it vibrated through her core. How he had finally seduced her. Sexy though the image was, Hermione realised she ought to be offended and proceeded in that direction. "I am glad someone finds it funny," she mumbled blushing deeply.

"Continue, Miss Granger," Snape said calming down. "I am... sorry... you clearly have a serious personal issue and I am... humbled that you feel you can come to me."

What? No taunts? Jibes? Sarcasm? No name calling ? Sneers? Jeers or Jabs? Snape apologised! All he needed to do now was have a cute fluffy kitten in his arms and that would be it – her hormones would skyrocket into the Milky Way.

"Was my source right?" she had been talking again and he had once again drifted from what she was saying.

"Right about what, Miss Granger?"

"I was _unreliably_ informed that Time Turners can either _in_ crease or _de_ crease your age depending on how often you use them to travel backwards or forwards in time?"

"There are always consequences to our craft, Miss Granger," Professor Snape's eyes glittered at her as his pale skeletal calloused fingers clasped together on the desk. Sinuously elegant – Hermione was starting to wonder if she loved hands now more than eyes: "You essentially tried to do in one year what many students need a life time to accomplish – as it is you attempted two years worth of study in one – taking into account how hard you work I would hazard two years yes."

"So, does that mean instead of nearly 15..." Hermione hesitated. "I am, more likely, nearly 17?"

Tilting his head to his side Professor Snape observed the young girl before him. Had no one really told her of the consequences before giving her the infernal contraption? Suspicions were mounting in his mind over what this was all leading too. "I am rather afraid that is a point up for debate," he said. Calm measured tone kept her on Planet Earth. Not sounding the least annoyed by her now. Hermione wondered if she should try and pick his brain more often in lunch hours. Show him that she did not, despite popular opinion, know everything. That would be impossible. "But I hold to the school of thought that there are certain things that Magic should never have ventured into and Time Travel is one of them," here he leaned back, the chair creaked with his action, stretching out those arms she felt around her and oh how delicious they felt as they protected her. Concentrate you slut, she sighed. "I would say that many scholars and philosophers hold to their supposition that travelling forwards in time does exhilarate the age process. Not enough studies have been conducted to support the theories but I feel that the consequences add up to their ideas." He was surprisingly almost amiable. Still not chummy. Professor Snape was not the type to slap on the back and call Sev. Hermione was about to say something but jumped as another set of knuckles rapped on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Sir!" It was Draco.

Immediately, Professor Snape witnessed the change in the girl. Guarded. Almost terrified. This cannot be the same girl who had slugged the entitled prat? She looked startled. Sizing up an escape opportunity. Finally settling her doe eyes on the wall where the door would open. Quietly she rose off the chair and looked as if she had the Bloody Baron walk right through her. Snow white complexion made her look consumptive. In her haste she dropped her books. Chivalrously, Professor Snape picked them up and gave them to her. So that when the Professor opened the door Draco would not know she was here, even had the presence of mind to take her bag with her. Odd! Sensible, he mused. Fairly Slytherin of her to find somewhere to hide and remain quiet.

"Come in," Professor Snape urged coldly, "but I have little time to spare as do you."

"It is about Granger," Draco sighed sitting down on the chair she had recently vacated. Professor Snape kept the door open but stood in front of Hermione. Voluminous robes and a rather impressive frame had further protected her from Draco's view. "I know something's up."

"Why would you care?"

"I care when I have a suspicion as to why something is up with the... her."

Furrowing her brow Hermione wondered why, when he was with Professor Snape privately, he had not resorted to that term that he so freely used since their second year, in public. "What is your unfounded reasoning behind Miss Granger's odd behaviour?"

"Well," Draco ran a hand through his hair and groaned in exasperation. "I heard Potter and Weasley talk," here Professor Snape pursed his lips. "Apparently she has not been the same since the World Cup Match."

"Why should I care over what some insufferable know-it-all behaves at some silly event?"

"The behaviour was before the Match started."

"Do you have a point to get to, Mr Malfoy, I do not have time to be cryptic. Sometimes the Lion's bluntness is a trait to be copied."

"All right, well she was on her own by the lake – the day was warm and I could not blame her for wanting to be away from the Weasley tent to get some space," Hermione could not believe it! Draco, unwittingly, was telling her story for her. Or the part he knew. "She was not that annoying then actually. In fact she looked rather..." here he quailed under Professor Snape's arched eyebrow and folded arms. "Well, she looked rather nice," he sighed, "and then my father shows up," she shrunk further into the shadows. "Tactfully she offers to move if we wanted to spend time there. Father suggested she stay – after flirting with her."

Did Hermione see a finger twitch on Professor Snape's hand? His wand hand at that. Who was he wishing to hex? "So? Your father flirts with any..." he could not say attractive. Snape suddenly realised he had seen a glimpse of the woman she was going to become and he was more jealous over the Potter and Weasley brats than he had a right to be. Remember, she is a Student. "Approachable Witch he can find."

"Yes, but you didn't see what she was wearing," Draco's smirk was so self-assured Hermione's fingers found themselves grabbing onto the back of Professor Snape's cloak. "The green and silver skirt. Tight white blouse..." again she saw the blond skitter backwards slightly as another of Professor Snape's withering glares hit him squarely in the eyes. "Anyway, my father left for me to go to the Marquee alone. I was going to invite Granger to actually," now Hermione wished the Whomping Willow had killed her. Or that the Professor had allowed Lupin to bite her. "He joined about half an hour to an hour later with wet hair and when Cornelius Fudge mentioned that he looked happy my father's response was... well," here Draco blushed. Crap, Hermione thought, if Draco blushed at certain words how would she have faired? "Father said his mood was rather _orgasmic_ and that his morale had been sufficiently boosted."

"Is that all, Mr Malfoy?" Professor Snape sounded bored.

"Not entirely," he sighed, "about two weeks later he returned home with another smirk on his face and when I moaned about how stupid Muggles where and how useless Mud... Muggleborns were," Hermione chewed her cheek and gripped hard onto Professor Snape's robes. Something she would apologise for when Draco left. "He said that they had their uses and that some of them were actually more vicious in tricking Muggles than we are and we could learn from their creativity."

"Did your father seem extremely happy, Mr Malfoy?"

"Could not stop smirking."

"Is that all, Mr Malfoy?"

"Well," Draco sighed, "the strangest thing was, that the ragtag red heads and Potter circled around the lake at the World Cup match looking for her and I went around in search of my father. It was like the lake dropped off into some abyss. I could not see them. Let alone hear anything."

"What would you expect me to do about it?"

"I don't know," Draco huffed. "I told Potter that I wanted to have a word with her as soon as possible but he clearly did not pass the message on as I saw her alone several points of the journey on the train and I know she saw me alone too but she did not approach me."

"Did you think to approach her?"

"Every time I did Weasley showed up taking hold of her hand."

"I see," Professor Snape sighed. "Now, I really have other things to be getting on with, is that all?"

"Yes, Sir," Draco said. "I swore I thought she was in here."

"Why would Miss Granger come to see me, Mr Malfoy? She reads the vast tomes our Library holds so I doubt I could enlighten her on any problem."

"Suppose you heard about her miserably failing a charm?"

"There were rumours, most uncharacteristic," Professor Snape conceded. "Why does this bother you, Draco?"

Shrugging his shoulders Draco glowered at his Professor: "When I hear Longbottom had to rescue her," he smirked, "it just does."

"I sympathise with that reasoning. Heaven forbid we have to rely on Longbottom to help us in any grave danger!"

Snape could feel his robes being tugged on by a rather irate Miss Granger behind him. This just aided the smirk on his features. The girl was rather protective over that boy.

"I suppose you wish me to talk to your father."

"No, to Granger," Draco said. "She won't talk to me. She _may_ open up to you."

"If she did take me into her confidence I trust you would not expect me to break it, Mr Malfoy?"

"No, just tell me if she does, if it is what I suspect it is I do not wish to know the sordid details."

"Understandable," tilting his head Professor Snape coughed: "The door, Mr Malfoy, is over there."

With a nod of the head Draco walked out of the door. To make absolutely certain Professor Snape then placed silencing charms so no one could hear what was about to happen. Also, he closed his Floo network so no one could interrupt that way and as Apparition was impossible in Hogwarts grounds accept to the Headmaster, Snape was satisfied he had covered all bases. Turning around he saw a visibly pale and shaking Hermione as she realised he had now connected her rambling foreward and Draco's abbreviated story together.

"I suppose Mr Malfoy suspects correctly?" the tone was somewhat... softer. Hermione was too shaken to walk and she felt Professor Snape wrap an arm around her waist to lead her to a chair. Great Godric's gonads, it felt good to be in his embrace, albeit a chaste one. "Lucius Malfoy," he sighed. "This is about him?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered.

Anger coloured his tone. "Raped you?"

"N-not exactly." He cares? Gods, Snape, you are an enigma in black aren't you? "N-not how I define r-rape."

"Did he take you by force? Bruise you? Jinx you?" he turned her around to face him, gently curling his fingers around her arms. Eyes burning with care. Impossible, Hermione thought, Professor Snape does not care for me. "Contrary to popular belief, Miss Granger, I am human and I do have a heart."

"I-I never said you weren't and that you didn't," she stammered.

A small smile graced his lips: "By implying I am incapable of caring you are suggesting otherwise."

"You _can_ read minds?"

"Probably the only male on this Earth to be able to read a woman's mind," his mouth twitched at the corners as he gazed into those gorgeous eyes of hers. "I would not believe everything Black and Lupin say either."

"I don't and Remus respects you more than you think, Sir."

"You came to me to talk about this and you were trying to put it in a way you would think you were after knowledge."

"Who would have thought I would be grateful for Draco Malfoy," Hermione sighed, "still he cannot be all bad. Also, he said it in a way I never could have."

Here Professor Snape's breath caught in his throat: "So, his father," he held in his breath and closed his eyes as if thinking carefully over what to say next: " _Seduced_ you, for want of a better word, a month ago." Bastard, his mind snarled. When he knew she could not... Coward! Immediately he hovered his wand over her womb. "Thank Merlin for that," he sighed. Wanting to hug her, to stroke her hair. "Is that how you would describe it?"

"I was willing, I responded, and I did not fight. That does not make it rape."

"He trapped you in charms to make sure coitus was not interrupted," controlled seduction. Hermione would have been trapped. His usual method. Get them somewhere they could not run from and they gave in. "Would you prefer not to go into sordid detail?"

"I don't know how it began or why." Hermione fidgeted about trying not to cry, "I should have been suspicious that there was a hot reserve of water. Smooth place to sit before I began another swim in the lake."

"Swim?"

"I love swimming."

"What was your attire for bathing?"

"A lilac and silver bikini." She felt his fingers tighten on her biceps but he regained composure. "I have rather vivid dreams – the ones where you think a touch is real. You can taste food. Those sorts of dreams so I thought that I was experiencing a highly sensed dream."

No wonder Lucius chose that moment. Alone. Scantily clad. Warm weather. Perfect for the Sun King of Wiltshire. "Of Lucius?"

"Of a Muggle Actor I am rather fond of," blushing Hermione fiddled with her fingers on her small lap. "It was Malfoy Sr. that told me of the uses of the Time Turner. Then he tapped into my fantasy and seduced me with it, Sir."

"Look at me," reluctantly, Hermione raised her large cinnamon eyes to his own. Hitching in a sob in her throat at the tenderness of expression in his intent gaze as she quivered in his touch. "I am not angry with you over this," Hermione tried not to cry, he could see her refusal of breaking down. Bloody Gryffindors. "What of the second time?" he sighed.

"I was sitting in my local park – watching a family. An auburn haired child had achieved a clean Accio stealing coins from a brutish man's pocket," she growled. "I wanted to hex the Muggle from here to the middle of the next century for laying his hands on the frightened girl. He was going to hit her with his belt." Why was he gripping onto her so fiercely? Was it possible that Snape hated child cruelty? "Harshly, he grabbed the beautiful son – telling the woman that Stephanie was no longer his problem as she was never truly his daughter, calling the mother all sorts of names. Scared the son managed to hover out of his father's arms as he wanted to be with his mother," the hint of pride in Hermione's voice as she recounted her witnessing the next generation of Muggleborns in action was unmistakable. "I wanted to go up to the mother when he left her with the two magical children," she winced as he let go – there were going to be indents of his nails there. Though she did not care. She would not try to excuse or heal them, to her they showed Professor Snape actually worried about his students. Even her. This was private knowledge that she wished for own selfish purposes to keep secret. "But Lu – Mr Malfoy – would only let me watch..."

"In your home town?" Professor Snape blanched. Wow, just when I thought he could not get whiter, Hermione sighed. "I interrupted. Continue."

Checking the time Hermione realised she had best make this quick: "Lucius put himself in another charm. I could see him but it seemed no one else could," she thought she heard Snape swear under his breath. It was deliciously sexy, another time she would have giggled. "Anyway some girls I went to my last school with," why was he being so attentive? Not one nasty comment. Surely he was leading her along? "Began to insult me," she squirmed in her seat as she continued her story. "It was childish but something in me snapped. Years of name calling. Years of bullying. Years of looking at that group of girls looking so perfect, so beautiful. So damn un-me!" now she was seething. "I always tricked the Leader – but this time I made her do something really stupid. Anyhow," Hermione sighed waving her hand as if trying to clear the thought from the air, "it seemed to impress Lucius Malfoy into a full on arousal." Professor Snape had moved closer. Cupping his hands over hers silently urging her to continue: "As he was roughly seducing me behind a tree, again I do not use the word rape because some sick perverted part of me actually enjoyed it, another friend showed up."

Now this was going to be the embarrassing bit. Describing her feelings for her muggle friend was sure to make her blush. "He was two years older than me and we were so close at one time we promised we marry one day," she risked glancing at her Professor. Shocked and flattered that he had knelt down by her side. "He told me that I would never see him again. He told me he was moving to Canada with his father – the parents divorced over the past year," she sighed now brave to keep eye contact. "If I had stayed at home and been bookish I would not have been in a shameful situation then," unwanted tears began to drip down her cheeks: "No, I had to be a... as you put it once: Young Gryffindor wanting to enjoy a nice day!" her bitter tone belied her youth. "After Steven broke my heart Lucius pulled me back behind the tree and then reminded me, rather physically, that certain parts of my body were his, and his alone, and told me to tell no one whilst making me yearn for him all over again. I have been pulling myself apart over this. What do I do?"

"Did he say when he would... again?"

"Mentioned about coming to the school and that he was not going to do it on the ground next time," she sighed. "I know this is my fault. I know I must have done something or said something. I don't..." suddenly Hermione felt his fingernails dig roughly into her wrists and gasped in shock.

"It is most certainly _not_ your fault, Miss Granger," hissed Professor Snape. Fathomless eyes glittered with rage on her behalf that would give Hermione pleasant dreams for the rest of her life. "That I can assure you with right now."

"I was... have been... so scared!"

"As advanced as we have become with our various uses for tinctures, potions and poultices, there is not a concoction yet created that could make a woman resist the attentions of Lucius Malfoy's wandering tongue."

"I thought you would have yelled. Screamed. Called me a silly girl."

"Why?" Professor Snape was truly puzzled over this, "You were, perhaps, too greedy for knowledge which meant the use of the Time Turner," Hermione was about to protest that was due to the fact that she was a Muggleborn but other Muggleborns were not voraciously devouring the Hogwarts Library every term. "How did Lucius know you were in possession of this item?" He was curious as to know what he told her exactly.

"Apparently he signed the final order allowing me permission to use it."

The lying serpent. "Yes," Professor Snape nodded, "in an attempt to burn you out so badly you would be the one to be humiliated rather than his son."

"If that was his ultimate aim in seducing me, this time he succeeded," Hermione said in anger finally standing up as the meekness left her. "Gods Professor," she swept an arm down her robes and looked at him. "Truthfully, all I am is a buck toothed, bushy haired, insufferable know-it-all mudblood!"

"Do. Not. Say. That. Word. In. My. Presence!" Professor Snape said taking a heavy step between each word towards her. "You understand me?"

"But..." she furrowed her brow. "It is what I am."

"How would your friends see you?"

"The same only omit the last adjective," she said wryly. "Why would he seduce me other than to get information about Harry which I would never give. I am not Pettigrew!" she spat.

Professor Snape faltered a little. Oh no, she sighed. I've gone too far. "It is not that," he sighed, "Lucius Malfoy is used to the best."

"I'm not the best, Sir," Hermione said slumping her shoulders as she picked her bag up, "I am just books and cleverness. A girl with an eidetic memory. A brain covered in indistinct curly fuzz."

Professor Snape sighed – this was new territory for him. Normally Gryffindors, with the exception of Lily, held a supreme arrogance over their entire selves. Too assured and strutted around the school like peacocks. Acting like they owned the building. Yet here was the best friend of the Boy-Who-Was-A-Thorn-In-Snape's-Privates. Twiddling her thumbs in her skirts absolutely terrified and insecure. Snape watched her properly. She really did seek approval due to low self-esteem. Starkly now, the girl reminded her of him. Completely. In fact, he sighed with poignant irony – this girl definitely could have been _their_ daughter. Despising his role not for the first time he wanted – no _needed_ – to show this one a peek of the real Snape. The one who loved. Not the Dungeon Bat but the man who cared deeply for his students, damn Dumbledore – I will show this girl I am not the monster everyone perceives me to be.

She felt her bag being removed from her shoulder and she turned to see Professor Snape twisting his mouth: "Magic comes from within, Miss Granger," he said with such tenderness Hermione could not believe this was the same man that made students pee in their pants. Unfortunately the effect he was having on her was another source of moisture. "Muggleborns perform Wandless spells sometimes years earlier than Pureblooded children do to show how raw the energy is."

"Is that why we're... resented?"

"Partially, and do not lump yourself in a group."

Pointing her longest middle digit to her red and gold, lion embossed, logo proudly emblazoned on her robe, Hermione cheekily smiled, showing two sweet dimples as she did so: "Too late, Sir," she said airily. "You are correct, part of the issue is this petty house rivalry but I doubt that will go away in our life time, perhaps never. Shame we just cannot learn to... get along... as a community instead of segregating ourselves in little camps from childhood."

"You know, Miss Granger, that is the most sense I think I have ever heard you speak," with little encouragement Herm... Miss Granger could go into Wizarding Law. Depending on how the Ministry treats her in the future when the Dark Lord returns. "Perhaps you could come over for another lunch time chat where we could discuss the future direction of Hogwarts if you had power to do so?"

Blushing, Hermione suddenly became awkward. Praise, apology, tenderness and now an invite for more personal chats? Who was the real Severus Snape? The one who could cut down the strongest pupil in tears with a well aimed insult or the one she had been spending her lunch hour with. "I may do so, Sir, but at your bequest only." Respect deserves respect. Glancing at her watch she sighed: "I think I had ought to go," she tilted her head. If this was Lupin she could shake his hand. McGonagall would hug her. Dumbledore would have told her to sit back down and offered her a cocoa. "Thank you for listening, Sir," she sighed.

Just before she reached the door Professor Snape was there. Covering her hand over with his making her look up into his eyes: "Thank you for trusting me," he returned in a low haunted voice, "but I _will_ have to inform Headmaster Dumbledore about the fact that Lucius Malfoy was seen in your neighbourhood witnessing two Muggleborn children display their powers."

"Just that, Sir," she said. "Stephanie is auburn haired, freckly, pretty and calls stealing: Temporarily Borrowing," this made Snape sigh and smile at the same time. If he had a daughter that sounded like one he would be have been proud to have conceived but only with the right witch. Much to his discomfort he realised in little over five years, Miss Granger would be an ideal candidate. "Jolyon is a curly headed cheeky blonde with apple cheeks I could not see anything else about him," then she criss crossed the strap of her satchel on her body. "I was not able to get the last name," she was rather sorry about that. "I want to make sure they are well."

"I will endeavour to track them down and make sure the future students are unharmed," Strangely, in an act of what seemed like uncharacteristic gentleness, Professor Snape brushed aside a chocolate curly lock of hair behind her ear. Again, like the way she did with Steven, Hermione raised her hand to where her Professor touched her and felt warm inside. "I understand the _delicacy_ of this issue and it's far reaching consequences to your honour and to young Mr Malfoy's family."

"Yes, he suspects already," Hermione mumbled. "I hope I do not have him confronting me on this. I mean why Professor? Why would Lucius Malfoy want me as his property?"

"Draco has yet to achieve that subtle art of interrogation and misdirection his father possesses, Miss Granger. You have matched him before, you will best him again." With a wry curve of the lips, glowing eyes almost in humour, Professor Snape continued: "I believe I have already explained that if Lucius Malfoy is going to pick a Muggleborn mistress he would pick the ones who held extraordinary abilities, which you have displayed time and again." Hermione gulped. More Professor, speak to me more. I don't want to leave you. Then her gaze wandered down observing how close Professor Snape was to her. The heat made her feel wonderful. She wondered if there was a cure for hormones? Remembering how the proximity of Lucius Malfoy made her feel. With kinder words, warmer tones, and a man she genuinely admired Hermione felt a definite small tingle between her legs. Discomforted at how she was so easily persuaded by her treacherous body to give into carnal nature. Was she, perhaps, meant to be a whore? "No," his voice became harsh as he stepped ever closer. Closing her eyes she breathed him in and how wonderfully he assaulted her senses. "You are not a Whore, Miss Granger," shyly she gazed up into his fathomless eyes that had, themselves, darkened with some sort of desire towards her. Her lips pulsed as they yearned for a lovers caress. "Now, if I hear that Mr Longbottom has to aid you again I will seriously be worried."

"He is not that bad," her husky voice seemed to have an effect on him as his grip tightened around her hand. "At least his parents were magical," she mumbled.

"What did I say about groups?"

"Hard not to when we literally wear our badges with pride, Sir," Hermione smiled, as she noticed his eyelashes. Dark. Long. Splayed wide. He had yet to let go off her hand. The darkened raven eyes hooded over with signs of lust. Hermione realised if they did not break contact and separated they may wind up in extreme trouble that could lead to his sacking. "I have to go, Sir, I may have time for a sandwich." Let me go, she sighed, before I do something really stupid like kiss you Professor. "Professor Snape," she tried to jerk her hand out from under his. The movement stirred him somewhat, as he gazed at her as if she was someone else. "I have to go now."

"What?" he said blinking. Then he noticed he had been cornering Miss Granger against his door. "Sorry," he muttered. No you're not, a wicked voice sneered inside his head, admit it you see why Lucius craves her. You do too. You know how old she is and you could technically take her. Why don't you, Severus? Sweep her up in your arms and keep her locked in your dungeons where no harm shall ever befall her you closet Gryffindor. "You can come back to see me about this problem any time you have a breakdown," he said. "However, I would suggest a mild sleeping draught for the next few nights and I agree with your friends, eat something and rest somewhere comfortable. An open book in the Library is not somewhere comfortable."

"Sir," Hermione sighed as he seemed still somewhat reluctant to let her go as his grip, though lessened, had not left her hand as yet. "Um," she caught his gaze and made him follow her eyes to her hand. "My hand, sir."

"Of course," he sighed reluctantly letting her go. Carefully, Hermione opened the door and cautiously stepped out risking a glance at her dour Professor. Distracted, he seemed to be staring into his fireplace. Hands behind his back clasped in worry. "Miss Granger," he whispered, she stopped in her tracks. Here it is. The insult: "You are more than you think you are," he sighed. Of course she was, his own inner Snape tormented him with. You would not suddenly desire her had you not held her so close to you mere months before. Wonder if she knew how that made you feel? Like you were her own knight in shining armour and you always will be. She's Lily in different colours. Unlike Lily, you know this one would have heard you out. You know this one would have told the Marauders where to go, but she was not there – because of that reason and that reason alone, you despised and taunted her, and will do so again. You despicable creature! "Not many 12 year old's would have been able to have worked out what you managed to in the heat of a moment the way you did." Merlin, he knew she was the one to work out the Potions riddle in the underground crypt where the Philosophers Stone was hidden. "Just remember foxes have bushy tails and they are known for cunning too."

Silently, Hermione shut the door behind and left Professor Snape's office. Unsure of what had passed between them. Did he actually respect her after all and it was all just an act to make sure none of the kids in his house ratted on their parents? Whatever his reasoning, Hermione sighed, it was a weight off her shoulders to have someone she could talk to that would comprehend her situation. Hermione walked around a corner with a smile. Unaware she was being watched by a pair of blue eyes – following her slow; even, more assured step.

* * *

"There you are!" Harry exclaimed as they saw Hermione walk in the now emptier Grand Hall. "Where were you?"

"Library," Hermione lied.

"You weren't," Ron sighed. "Lavender and Parvati looked for you in there and they saw nothing of you."

"Maybe I had left by the time they sought me out."

"So _then_ where were you?"

"What is this the bloody inquisition!" Hermione sighed. "I have need to be on my own sometimes, is that so bad?"

"No," Harry said shooting Ron a warning look, which Ron read correctly: "It is not. Sorry," he scooted over so she could sit next to him. "Good job we managed to save you some food before Ron scoffed the lot single handed."

The trio burst out laughing over this and Hermione allowed herself to enjoy the companionship of her friends. "So," she thought aloud, "the Goblet, eh?"

"We can't do it," Ron muttered. "Just our luck something a bit more fun than trailing Grease Nose around making sure he does not kill Harry happens and we're a year too early."

Holding in her usual retort lest it spoil the mood and hiding her blush Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ronald," she said in perfect imitation of his mother he actually darted his eyes around as if she had appeared at the school, "Professor Snape," she reminded him, "has _not_ been trying to kill Harry, will you let it drop!"

"But..."

"Let it go, Ron," Harry sighed. "We all know Hermione has a crush on him!" he teased elbowing Hermione in the ribs.

"Idonot," she mumbled turning beetroot red. Truth was, in his office, he was concerned. Caring. He was kind towards her. Her now awakened body was almost aching for him to do more than gingerly tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "Can we drop it please?"

"Seem to be dropping rather a lot lately are we not, Granger!" a voice sneered.

"TAKE THAT BACK!" Ron jumped up brandishing his wand. "OR I'LL..."

"Make me eat slugs, Measle?" Draco tilted his head.

Harry was about to join in defending his friends honour but Draco rolled his eyes and looked at her reaction. She had not even bothered defending herself. That was... odd. With that he turned on his heel suavely, in almost perfect manner of his father, and walked out of the room.

"Prat!" Ron muttered.

"He was just after a rise out of you," Hermione sighed as she finished her salad and started on a sandwich and drank down some water. Hungrily, she ate the sandwich and looked at her timepiece: "Come on, lessons beckon."

The trio stood up and Hermione thought nothing of Draco's interruption. Typically him, she thought, so what was the real Draco? The one she had not meant to witness in Snape's office or the one who kept needling her on her status. It was only when she got her books neatly arranged and opened at the page where they should be that a note fell at her feet. Picking it up she surreptitiously opened it under her desk and glanced with horror. That little spat in the Hall was just a distraction whilst he put this note in her bag. Even she had to admit that was clever: " _We need to talk, Granger. I don't care on whose terms but we have to talk! D._ "

"Miss Granger," Professor Binns, Hogwarts only resident Ghost Teacher sighed dustily, "have you been listening?"

"Sorry, Sir, I was lost in your eloquence."

Now that was a lie. Professor Binns was probably the only teacher even Hermione found extremely dull. "All right," Binns said. "Mr Longbottom, perhaps, can answer."

Again? This can't be happening. Now she knew why everybody hated Mondays. This one certainly had it in for her...

Except for Professor Snape. He was so wonderful. Compassionate, understanding, kind, he listened. Would have done so up until she got around her illogical ramblings until it came to the point that Draco so unwittingly provided for her. There was a tone in Draco's voice that... No, he can't... inwardly, Hermione groaned. If he did that would _really_ be the icing on the cake.

Chicaning her thoughts back to Snape Hermione ruminated on the way he covered her hand in his as he knelt beside her. She could tell he was willing her not to cry not understanding that she had shed all the tears she possibly could over this scenario. Then that almost fatherly touch of tucking a hair behind her ear before she left made her feel more precious than any amount of praise any other professor could heap on her. To her, it was all the proof she needed that he was not what her friends seemed to believe he was, that she was right.

It dug into her heart when she had to hear Ron and Harry call him names. If only they knew, she sighed, that he was truly there for them. If they bothered to ask.

* * *

 **A/N** - _Ha ha - bet you all thought Snape was going to be nasty, poisonous and churlish. Nope. I get the feeling he actually respected Hermione even if she does annoy the heck out of him!_


	4. Poison

**Under the Surface**

* * *

There is more **DUB CON** in this chapter. Also a scene my parents described as really funny (which is an acheivement because I find writing humour harder than I do the angst!) and something out of St. Trinians. Thank you all for the continued support you are showing for all my works.

I do not own Harry Potter or any of the words she created within, neither do I own Alice Cooper which disappoints me somewhat... sighs... ah well! A little hint of more of the REAL Severus shines through in this chapter. Read and review, it is reviews us fanfic authors feed on.

OH and if you're on FB join the fabulous DEE group, link is in my bio!

Onwards and yonder...

* * *

 _Your mouth, so hot **  
**Your web, I'm caught **  
**Your skin, so wet **  
**Black lace on sweat_

 _I hear you callin and it's needles and pins (and pins) **  
**I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name **  
**Don't wanna touch you, but you're under my skin (deep in) **  
**I wanna kiss you, but your lips are venomous poison_ ( **Alice Cooper** )

 **Poison**

There was a fortnight of absolutely nothing much happening to the trio of red and gold. Now that Professor Snape knew Hermione felt calmer and she was soon back to the bossy know-it-all that almost everyone loved yet; still, Harry kept his steely emerald gaze on her. Thankfully, the Goblet of Fire and talk of that Tri-Wizard tournament provided a distraction, as did Viktor Krum who was talking to her. Similar to her Muggle love Hermione entertained his drooling and incessant need to follow her whenever his stern Headmaster Karkaroff was not with him. Another pair of eyes followed her. Ravenclaw blue in colour as they shared classes, he watched her demeanour, she _still_ had not bothered to talk to him – why? Twice he had asked her. Was she so stupid to think I don't already suspect? I know my dad, more than you do. It was not until the second Friday back that things crashed around Hermione's ears rather spectacularly.

Firstly: She decided to get a message to Draco. She did this by bumping into him harshly: "Oi! Watch it Mudblood!" he sneered.

"You shut up, Malfoy!" Harry had drawn his wand. "She would have said sorry!"

"Oh really!" his sneer matched the fierce glare towards Hermione who tilted her chin defiantly at Draco's gaze: "Well, Mudblood, _apologise_!"

"I suggest you take a long leap into the lake, Malfoy," Hermione sneered back, as she quickly glanced down at his crotch, "something tells me you like it rough!" with a hair flick over her shoulder, cheeky wink and a dazzling smiling Hermione confidently walked ahead cuddling her books to her chest, curls bouncing with each exuberant step.

Bemused, Harry and Ron followed her. Draco scoffed to his mates and uttered threats of punishing her later but he felt the crackle of parchment in his hand: Subtle, Granger, he sighed. Excusing himself to his friends Draco walked into the shadows and read her note with a dimmed Lumos charm: ' _Draco, how are we to meet? I am being shadowed by Harry and Ron and you always have your Sycophants with you_.' Charming, Granger, he smiled. Well, who would have thought she was going to defer to him. He thought she would be the type to set the date. The time down to the last second. Also the place. ' _PS: Why are you looking at me all the time? HG._ '

"What is that, Draco?" Pansy found him. Crap, quickly he scrunched the letter into his robes and took hold of his – well, for want of a better word, girlfriend's – arm as he walked out of the alcove on the way to their Herbology lesson. "If it is another girl, I will hex her from taking away my Dwacy."

Sycophantic was right! Closing his eyes he hoped and prayed he'd find a Pureblood version of Hermione because the Gryffindor girl was torturing him. Repressing his shudder he sighed: "Nothing," he said. "Just one of those wishful thinkers."

"That's better," Pansy stroked Draco's arm. Gods curse Salazar, he sighed, Hermione was close to the darn truth. That he _had_ imagined taking her roughly. Against a wall, her skirt hitched over her leg and her bloody Gryffindorian robes on the floor and he would... "I hate Herbology, don't you?"

"At least it is the one lesson Longbottom can't fail at!" he said cheekily causing the girl to swoon by his side. Give me strength, he ground his teeth! Eventually, Pansy let go off his arm. Yeah, we're told we cannot touch people like Hermione but look at what dogs _we_ have on offer.

"Mr Malfoy!" Professor Sprout sighed with impatience, "when I require an answer to a question I expect it to be replied with exact promptitude, do you hear?"

"Sorry, Professor," he said genuinely c0ntrite. "I will answer next time, I promise."

"Good, needless to say your grades are not in top shape in this lesson. Your Potions skills are highly regarded but you do need to tend to the ingredients the right way first, Professor Snape is most insistent that you all learn this lesson well."

"Yes Miss," Draco sighed. Now he was becoming as bad as Granger. Could she be daydreaming about him? His ego wished it was but he sort of knew why she was strange. Also, why did she go to Professor Snape? It was odd. "Right," he gritted his teeth as he read the instruction in his book on how to propagate Wolfsbane.

* * *

Up in the Headmaster's office Professor Dumbledore blinked and smiled. The very image of affability and kindness. Steepling his fingers he glanced over his half-moon glasses at the man opposite him. "So, you wish to see if... what.. exactly?" the elderly coot said.

Brushing imaginary specks of dust off his finely decorated dark green outer robes the man gave the Headmaster a look dripping with charm and equal amiability: "The School Governors are in agreement that the odd few impromptu checks on this contest and how it is affecting the day-to-day running of the school is required. I take it upon myself to observe – perhaps once every other week. We do not wish to worry the little darlings, do we?"

"No," Headmaster Dumbledore sighed, "but Lucius, we do have things under control, I can assure you."

"I am in no doubt of your ability to ensure the smooth running of having almost three schools in one," Lucius murmured, smiling coldly as he leaned on his decorative cane. "I wish to start today, I can walk around under a Disillusionment charm so as not to be a distraction to the children."

"This school, under my care, has all students care in their best interests," Dumbledore smiled just as frostily, mulling something over as he tilted his head. "Just as when you were a pupil here. My methods have not changed, Lucius."

Rolling his eyes, Lucius sat back in the seat and finished drinking his fragrant earl grey with lemon. tea: "Yes, Albus," the blond sighed, "but when I was here we did not hold the Tri-Wizard tournament – neither were there distasteful rumours."

"Rumours regarding Lord Voldemort, Lucius?" Albus twinkled though the tone was infuriatingly off hand in that manner only Dumbledore possessed. "Yes we are aware of the problem, and I can assure you, I have my ears listening and my eyes peeled."

"Be that as it may it would not hurt to extend extra protection, would it, Albus?"

"Of course not, Lucius," Albus said. "Do be sure to avoid young Miss Weasley;" the old man's twinkle disappeared momentarily. "She is still recovering somewhat from her ordeal in her first year."

"I think you forget, Albus, I was not involved."

"I was not implying you were, Lucius."

Impatiently, Lucius began fidgeting in his chair, this man always made him feel 12. He hated being 12. "Good, just so we have that clear."

"Fine, you are right, these are unusual circumstances: The best of times, the worst of times... one might paraphrase a Muggle for this instance as it is apt for the current tide."

"Charles Dickens," Lucius said with a smile. If Albus was shocked that this Muggle hater read Charles Dickens then he showed no signs: "A Tale of Two Cities if I remember correctly."

"Yes, Lucius," Albus inclined his head. "Well, I suggest you get started."

Cold civility and good breeding gave Lucius no choice but to shake the old codger's proffered hand. The Headmaster shook his head as Lucius silently cast charms: "Remember, _observation only_ , Lucius."

"Yes I know!" the invisible voice said from the direction of the door. The only sign that someone was leaving the room was watching the door open on its own: "Also, not to frighten the young Miss Weasley."

Albus sat back ruminating on what had just occurred. He could bet his bottom Galleon that the blond Wizard was up to one of his old tricks, and he wondered just who the poor of age student it was. There was something troubling his mind. Lucius was almost as good as Severus at being able to control their thoughts – but he could not help but feel it was one of the better students at danger here.

* * *

This was the point Hermione's day fell around her ears. For as she was walking on her own from Arithmancy to Potions she breathed and was certain a familiar cologne wafted past her. Turning in a perfect circle she could only see her fellow students. Shrugging her shoulders Hermione walked to her Potions class where Harry and Ron were waiting for her.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked as he spotted Hermione's wild-eyed glare. "You look like Peeves has just slapped your bum."

"Do not be so coarse, Mr Weasley," Professor Snape said languidly.

"She's my friend," Ron muttered.

"Does not translate to having her being treated with foul innuendos, Mr Weasley."

Blushing Hermione just buried her face behind her books: "Get in! Get in! Now!" he barked at all the students and Neville squeezed Hermione's hand as he entered, "MOVE!" Everyone rushed to their benches: "Are we sitting comfortably?" Snape sneered, "good, then let me begin."

He began writing notes on a black board by hand. There was something he liked about doing this. The class knew he meant it by their first six months that Professor Snape really _did_ hate Wand Waving. Unlike some other Professors. The sound of chalk on the board was also a good weapon against the rowdier pupils and he had often scratched his nails down the board to regain control. A little guilty pleasure he indulged in at random moments to keep his students on the alert.

Instead of concentrating, Hermione glanced at Draco and could not help but notice how much like his father he was. The moment she thought of Lucius her hands became clammy. Why now? Why when she managed to banish him from her mind after that breakdown?

"Miss Granger," Professor Snape snapped making her jump: "When you have quite stopped ogling Mr Malfoy I would suggest you start on your potion," he sneered.

It's just an act, she growled. It is just an act: "As if I would, Sir," she said sweetly.

Ron twirled his finger around the side of his head. Reaffirming his appraisal of when he'd first met her: Mental, said it, didn't I! Mental!

"I would be insulted," Malfoy leered, "but as it's you I guess you just want to see what a Prime Wizard looks like."

"I have, Malfoy, his name is Harry Potter!" with that Hermione smirked and winked at Harry who blushed to the roots of his hair. The loyalty was welcome but was Hermione stupid? This was Professor Snape's class and she was... playing?

"Yes well," Draco's eyes glinted maliciously, "I suppose a half-blood would be about all you can aspire to, Mudblood."

Then it was utter chaos. Ron shot up brandishing his wand with Harry trying to restrain him. Lavender and Parvati closed ranks on Hermione. Seamus and Dean joined Ron with pointing their wands at Draco who, himself, was being flanked by his goons Crabbe and Goyle with Millicent and Pansy about to scratch the eyes out of Brown and Patil. The only Slytherins staying out of this was Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Tracy Davis and Blaise Zabini. Even Professor Snape had not expected his put-down to escalate to this level. Normally he had more control over the situation. He observed the few who remained quiet. Sensible, he sighed as he gazed at the Longbottom boy. The majority of his house also preferring to leave the consequences to their peers.

Oddly, Snape was surprised to see Potter trying to gain control on his fiery haired friend with little success as Ron was now leaping over the tables. Knocking and denting several cauldrons in his furious wake. Angrily, Ron grabbed onto Draco's robes and shoved him against the walls. Something sharp caught in the blonds hair. Causing him to wince. Horror took over the entire class as they witnessed blood dripping out from the back of his head. Draco's eyes glazed over and rolled inwards. Suggesting to Hermione he may have been concussed.

"ENOUGH!" The voice was not Professor Snape but Hermione's and she stood glorious in the centre of the chaos. Professor Snape knew he should not think this but he had truly never seen anything more beautiful than Hermione's growing magical core radiating out of her: "Good grief, Ron, you cannot take offence every time he decides to say _that_ word to me. You'd end up with a broken arm from hexing the twit to oblivion. Last I checked this was a Potions Class not Duelling Club. Now say sorry to him."

Grumbling and reluctantly, Ron let go of Draco and walked back to his bench scowling harshly: "I believe I said," Hermione sighed, "to say sorry before he has to see Madam Pomfrey?"

"Sry," Ron muttered.

Pansy fawned over a slumped and crimson dripping Draco and was about to lead him to the Hospital Wing. With an impatient roll of his dark eyes, Professor Snape cut in. "Miss Parkinson, you stay, Miss Granger shall escort Mr Malfoy to the Wing."

The Pureblood pug glowered at Hermione as she huffed and picked up her bag – this was one Potion she was looking forward to brewing. Careful not to touch Draco, Hermione just steadied him on his feet and used as little contact as she could. Parkinson was not the only one who would have sent flying daggers their way.

Almost, Professor Snape sighed, you almost looked and sounded like her then. So much so I am tempted to award house points to Gryffindor as Miss Granger had the presence of mind to stop it from becoming all out war. Surreptitiously, he sighed, he would add them privately. So no one would know. He had been doing that for years.

"Now," he sighed once Miss Granger had shut the door, "before that debacle that was so _smoothly_ settled by Miss Granger shall we get the class back in order and get to the task at hand."

Blinking, Harry could not believe Professor Snape had just praised Hermione. What was going on? The rest of the Potions lesson would have gone just as smoothly had Hermione stayed. Worried looks passed through certain quarters over the hot and suffused cauldrons. As a precaution Professor Snape decided, this time, to keep the partners to respective sides. Much to Daphne's displeasure, she had never told anyone of her crush on Dean Thomas and sulked as she stood next to the sweaty horrible smelling Goyle. Harry was partnered with Neville: "Why does Ron act like that?" Neville whispered as he was trying miserably to follow Snape's instructions: "Quite frankly I am surprised we did not get 100 points off for that stupidity."

"Me too," Harry agreed helping as much as he could. Though he was almost at a loss himself but not floundering as much as his friend: "But you know Ron. I think Hermione just tries to let it wash over her now." She had too. Building defences inside her would probably help in the long run. Harry was so preoccupied with his own thoughts and speculations on Hermione's odd behaviour that it was only after his partner put the crushed laburnum pods other than Belladonna berries and vigorously stirring in the centre of the mix that the messy haired Wizard had only a second to react.

"NO NEVILLE!" Harry shouted.

The yell given in time for the class to duck beneath their desks. Everyone, except Neville, who was yanked down unceremoniously by the front of his robes, sharply by Harry. Nothing happened and some worried eyes peered over their desks thinking maybe Potter was overreacting. Just when one or two thought it was safe … BOOM! Globules of disgusting puce splattered everywhere as, when the mixture landed in everyone else's cauldrons it caused several other minor explosions.

"I'm s-sorry Harry," Neville whispered. Instead of being angry, Harry rubbed his friends back: "I wish..."

"I should have gone instead," Pansy griped as she saw how much landed on her, "at least that Mudblood is good for something, she stops Nitwit Neville from blowing the classroom up," a particularly large glob landed straight into Pansy's mouth and face earning behind the hands sniggers from Lavender and Parvati who managed to escape relatively clean because they had the sense to stay beneath their desks from the start.

"Mr Longbottom," Professor Snape hissed quietly. Everyone looked askance as they noted he had two ugly coloured gloops on his shoulders. Horror struck, Harry noticed a large mass slip from the ceiling, directly underneath where Snape was standing. A part of him wanted to stop the mess from falling, the other part wanted something to laugh about with Ron later! It was not just Harry that spotted it. Crabbe was about to bring it to his Head of House's attention at which point...

Splat!

Landing on top of Snape's head. The cause of which meant that some of it glided down Snape's forehead, with a small drip wobbling at the end of his hooked nose where it finally landed on his shoes. Professor Snape glared at each and every one as if daring to do so much as twinkle with merriment: "Mr Potter, 14 points off Gryffindor from almost destroying the classroom." For once Harry did not have the energy to argue. Feeling, occasionally, maybe – sometimes, it was justified. He had to concede neither were paying attention and he did not want Neville to get into more trouble as he was also likely to suffer detention with Filch, scrubbing down the walls and cupboards and washing cauldrons. With a cold glittering gaze around the room Snape barked: "Those that have ingested, go to the Hospital Wing. Those that haven't clean yourselves off!" Everyone stood stock still: "Perhaps," he murmured silkily, "I did not make myself clear," mouths were dry: "MOVE!"

The rush of students with their bags as everyone clamoured to get out of Professor Snape's sight gave the Professor a headache! When he thought he was alone, Snape sighed and thought about Miss Granger's problem. Treacherously, his body decided it liked the young Witch. He sickened himself! Just as he was contemplating giving in he was jolted out of his semi-lust filled haze by a familiar sound. A deep, dark chuckle originated from the corner of the room. Brandishing his wand Snape turned to the sound and Lucius lifted the Disillusionment charm.

"I thought my son was exaggerating about Longbottom's incompetence."

"No exaggeration needed," Professor Snape sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. "How long have you been there?"

"All throughout," tilting his head with that self-assured smirk only a Malfoy can give he sighed: "Miss Granger was quite good at restoring order, I thought," when Severus declined to comment Lucius chuckled: "I would have thought you would have let Miss Parkinson take Draco to the Ward – you would have been spared this chaos had you done so."

"You asked me to keep those two apart, remember?"

Visibly Lucius shuddered: "Yes, I most certainly do not want future Malfoy's looking like they are stuck in their animagus form of Pug Dogs."

"Why are you really here, Lucius?"

"Observation, do not worry your sarcastic little head over it, Headmaster Dumbledore is well aware I am here."

"Why the invisibility?"

"Dear boy," Lucius flashed a dazzling smile. "How can I get accurate assessments otherwise?"

With that, Lucius reapplied the charm and swept out of the Class Room. Professor Snape narrowed his eyes. Not again. I won't let it happen again. It was creepy the first time around, now it is perversion. Although she is, due to an extremely dubious loophole, of age. It still did not mean he had the right! And he knew where she was... Because I sent her there. Purpose took over. Yes, he might not adore Miss Granger, (hear that you sorry excuse for manhood!). The member in question seemed to ignore it's owner. Lily, he thought, why did you not come back as a ghost? This would have been a damn sight easier if you were here to help me guide your son and we might even have had a somewhat strange family situation with Her... Miss Granger, as our daughter. We talked about that once, didn't we, what we would name our children. I believe Hermione came up once or twice.

* * *

"Why did he ask Hermione to take Malfoy to the Hospital Wing when Parkinson was more than willing?" Ron asked as they made their way to their dorms to tidy up and put a clean set of robes on.

"He probably would not have paired her with Neville in either case," Harry said, "it was funny though!"

They veered out of the way as Millicent escorted Pansy to the Hospital Wing. "Whatever, you and Neville created," Ron smirked. "It certainly had an effect."

* * *

Hermione kept a woozy Draco up with an enervate, but still putting her hand over the bleed. This time it _was_ a serious injury, unlike his play-acting with Buckbeak, and one she would have words to Ron with later. Draco was quiet all the way there, not even bothering to stop her from touching him if she felt it necessary. Once they reached the wing she set Draco to his feet – scrunching up her robes – leaned Draco carefully down so the blood could absorb and there was added pressure to the wound.

"Get him on the bed," Pomfrey said in her no nonsense manner. "What happened?"

"The usual," Hermione sighed with exasperation as she picked Malfoy's legs up and swung them on the bed like she had done for her sick grampy. "Inter House rivalry, blood feuds – that sort of thing."

"Not surprised, I take it this is Weasley's handiwork?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "I will leave him in your capable hands." As Hermione was about to leave Draco groaned and shot a hand out to hers. "Little Lord Fauntleroy would rather I stay it seems," Hermione said, "what can I do?"

"Keep the wound clean whilst I find the blood replenishing and healing potions – Professor Snape sent some this morning."

Almost as if he knew, Hermione sighed. "Alright then," Hermione said. Dumping her bag, and his, on the floor side-by-side as she walked over to the sink. Removing her outer robes and her jumper. Loosening her tie next, which allowed her to undo the top two buttons of her blouse. She then rolled her shirt sleeves up to her elbows and washed thoroughly as she had been told to do by her parents since she was a toddler: Humming a Muggle song as she did so. Drying them off she turned around and saw Draco smirking. "What?"

"I approve of the skirt length, Granger." Draco tilted his head to look at her legs. "Of course I did prefer you in the one by the lake."

"Well," Hermione sighed casually leaning against the sink with her arms resting on her stomach arching an eyebrow to match number two prat, "I can hardly wear that skirt here, now, can I?"

"Don't see why not?" Draco shrugged. Scowling as her arms tightened under her breasts. "Nice rack too!"

"You're disgusting," she grumbled as she spun back around humming the same song.

"So," he sighed – Hermione could almost feel the smirk on her back. "What are you singing?"

"A muggle song," she said, "so I doubt you'd be interested." Blood was still seeping from the back of his head and Draco was starting to pale. Immediately, Hermione found a sterilised bowl – filled it with lukewarm water, hung some cloths over her arm and put them down on the table next to him: "Can you sit?"

Draco tried but he was weakening so Hermione had to lever him up gently by hooking her arm and hand on the nearest elbow and sat him up. Once she was satisfied he had enough cushions to prop his body up on she went about soaking the cloths in water and dabbing the blood out of his hair and on his neck. "You can sing it, if you want," he said but in a lazy manner.

"All right," Hermione said. "It's by a bloke called Alice Cooper, its called Poison."

"Poison?"

" _Your cruel device_ ," hummed Hermione soothingly as she tended to him. " _Your blood, like ice, one look could kill, my pain, your thril_ l:" Unconsciously, she undulated her hips with the tune. Not bad, Granger, Draco thought as he clung onto her. Tenderly, she wiped away what she hoped to be the last of the outpouring. " _I wanna love you but I better not touch, I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop, I wanna kiss you but I want it too much_ ," here she inspected the wound after the blood, definitely will need a poultice: " _I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison_." There, she had cleaned the blood out of his hair. Pomfrey came in with the potions needed to restore Draco back to his arrogant, unpleasant, self. " _You're Poison, poison running through my veins_ ," she held a cold compress against the cut and leaned Draco back gently so as not to cause him unnecessary pain: " _I don't wanna break these chains_!"

"That sounds like a pretty cool song actually," he mumbled drowsily as Pomfrey administered a mild dose of sleeping draught to Draco. The pair got to work placing poultices and Hermione helped stitch the wound with a healing charm. "Nice legs Granger," he mumbled sleepily, "I wanna ave ave you..." rolling her eyes she and Poppy exchanged cheeky smirks. No one would tell him what he had mumbled though Hermione could use it against him in the near future... if she were inclined to.

Good job she did not have to sing black lace on sweat in front of Draco. The way he had been behaving around her lately that would just exacerbate the situation. Hermione waited until he had drifted off to sleep but found he had fallen back on her arm. Together, her and Poppy lifted a comatose Draco, to release Hermione's arm. Just as she was about to walk out, Bulstrode and Parkinson entered with the after effects of Neville's attempt at Potions all over them.

Having to hide her smirk quickly as she noticed that Parkinson's lips, mouth, jaw and nose had swollen to the size of oranges – her tongue was peppered with boils. Gathering her robes and bag she was about to leave when Seamus entered with Dean: "What happened?" Hermione asked.

"Nitwit Neville happened!" Parkinson managed to splutter out. "I sthoulda taken Dwaco!"

Dean was not so badly infected as Parkinson having a slightly swollen lip and chin: "Harry tried to stop him," Dean sighed, "but it was too late."

"Let me guess, Belladonna berries poured instead of Laburnum Pods crushed and added slowly to six three quarter anti-clockwise stirs?"

"Yep," Seamus giggled, "you shoulda seen Snape though. Pats of globs on his shoulder, one landed on his head and it trickled down his ginormous hooter."

"Thnot thunny!" Parkinson tried to snap but it sounded, to Hermione, like Violet Elizabeth Bott from the Just William stories her Primary School teacher read to the class as a treat. "Thnot!" she was defiantly folding her arms around her chest.

Suppressing her own desire to laugh Hermione turned to her House Mates: "How many points did we lose?" she sighed.

"14," Seamus replied giggling.

Madam Pomfrey bustled in and rolled her eyes, somehow, she knew it was going to be one of those days. "Right," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I will get them back somehow, by the end of the day," with that she hugged the two boys and left the Wing careful not to laugh until she was out of there. Good grief, she almost felt sorry for Draco having to stay there with the possibility of waking up to see his girlfriend in that state.

* * *

Confidence took over Hermione's stride as she had felt that Professor Snape had complimented her in some way, though how she had yet to work out. Still, she shrugged one of her shoulders and smiled a little, it was nice to have him look at her like that after she had made Ron apologise to Draco. Humming the rest of the song to herself Hermione realised she had half-an-hour to spend doing some extra studying and that put another spring to her step and she almost skipped down the twisting corridors, hopping gaps between the moving stair cases. Still in her less than Hermione state. The portraits muttered: "Someone's happy."

* * *

Just when she thought that her day had normalised as she was going towards lunch. Due to tending to Draco she had missed half a lesson so she felt she may as well try and get a bite to eat. She felt a hand on her shoulder. The same pressure – the same hand. A scent she had almost managed to forget in the past month. Another hand grabbed the elbow of her other arm and dragged her into the shadows. The pull was not violent but urgent. Once down a rather cold, disused, labyrinthine part of the school in a long ago forgotten classroom did Lucius Malfoy reveal himself.

"Oh no, darling, I have not tired of you yet!" he said in answer to her shocked scowl. "Because your Muggle companions spoiled my last attempt I will have to make do here."

"Whatever delusions you find yourself under I have not thought about you since then!"

"I know that is a lie," Lucius sighed tilting her chin up, "in all likelihood you have not _stopped_ thinking about me. That is why you were looking at Draco."

"You were in there?" Hermione slowly, cautiously stepped away with a stride to the left so she could get nearer the only escape route. "F-for how long?"

"Throughout," he murmured following her step keeping his icy gaze intent on her mid-length school skirt.

"Surely you can't find a school uniform alluring?"

"When I know what is underneath I do," he purred, "when I know how the muscles shudder," his stride was considerably larger than hers, "when I have felt the skin quiver with barely a touch." Hermione had one or two more steps to take to make it out of here, "when I heard her voice hiss my name like the inner Serpent she is." Her other hand inching towards her wand: "Also, when it looks like the wearer has already engaged in illicit activity."

"I am a Gryffindor," she murmured and she was there at the door and her hand touched the handle with one whilst fingering her wand with the other, "I roar," though with less conviction she intended. "I look like this because I was caring for your little Prince," she flicked an annoying piece of hair out of her face. "I will scream."

"That you do, Hermione."

"Don't say my name like you paid for it!" she ground out between her teeth offering him her angriest scowl. It did nothing except make him silently rock with laughter.

Maliciously, Lucius leered as he took in her dishevelled appearance from looking after his son: "Did you enjoy touching my son?"

"I took pride in caring for him and making sure he was comfortable," her eyes narrowed. Fingers wrapped around the handle, what stopped her from pushing it open and getting the hell out of there? "If that is what you mean, I am not the enemy you seem to think I am."

"No," he whispered. "I am sure that with the best to guide you, you would be quite formidable on the battlefield," here Lucius set his cane on the nearest desk to show he was not going to hex her. Then he loosened his cloak and let it fall sinuously on the floor: "You are quite a worthy companion in other aspects as I can attest to."

Gaping, Hermione knew he meant he wanted her. Now he was wearing a crushed plum velvet jacket. Silk lavender shirt with three emerald buttons undone. Displaying his chest that she had kissed with fervour. Powerful legs encased in matching plum coloured trousers with an amethyst ring over lilac hued soft sheep leather gloves. The hair, again, was loosely splayed around his powerful shoulders. Dark green dragon hide two inch platform shoes finished his splendour.

What? Here! In this disused classroom! "Where is Peeves when you bloody need him," she muttered.

"This is the sort of mischief you want broadcast to the entire school, is it?"

"Why are you not with your son?" she hissed. "He actually sustained a serious injury you would do well to think about him."

"An injury caused by your friend," the blond locks swayed a little almost making Hermione want to touch them remembering how they felt bunched into her palms. No! "I admire the way you handled that by the way," he whispered as he lazily ghosted a soft leather gloved hand along her jaw, "rather inspiring."

"Good," she humphed.

"Take a compliment when it is a compliment with grace, Hermione," he sighed as he closed the inches between them by pressing her body against the door, "why haven't you run?"

"Maybe my switch is stuck on Fight rather than Flight."

That deep, rumbling, chuckle again. The one that sent intense heat through her body. "If that were the case, you would have certainly hexed me by now."

Damn him! He had to be right. Widening her eyes in fright Hermione tried the door again but Lucius reached around and loosened her grip and started circling his fingers on the back of her hand and up her arm: "Last time I received no fulfilment because your Muggle friend interrupted – I do not intend to leave without repeatedly and quickly shoving my turgid member into your soaking wet petals," he growled into her ear pressing her harder against the door. The handle stuck into her back. Digging into her flesh. There was going to be a bruise there: "Did you see whom he looked like?"

"S-Steven looks like Steven!" she hissed.

"What is his surname?"

"I am not telling you that," her eyes narrowed. "Why can you not leave me alone?"

"I ask again," Lucius hissed. "What is his surname?"

Struggling but not succeeding Hermione groaned out: "Snape, his surname is Snape."

Mollified, Lucius brought the subject back to hand. One that he had thought little else of since he had felt her up in the park: "Have you realised we have yet to undress each other?" he purred close into her ear, allowing his lips to caress the entire shell. "We have yet to pound each other on a mattress?"

"I hate you," she said though not as convincingly as she wanted to, "and may I remind you – you are married."

"Narcissa and I have an understanding," Lucius started to stroke down her neck to her normally perfectly centred tie – the red and gold of Gryffindor. Now it was rushed down and skewed. Licking his lips as he saw the colour of her bra underneath."Tut tut," he sighed, "this just won't do!" Before Hermione had a chance to ask what he meant; he muttered something as he stroked down the tie. Filling her senses of him. Hermione's throat went dry as now all she longed for was for that velvet mouth of his to devour hers the way he'd done in the park. "That's much better," he sighed as he lifted it up.

Mewling unintelligently as her desire to be kissed was yet to be satisfied. She glowered at the sight of her newly redecorated tie: "Green and silver?" her head tilted as she chewed her lower lip. An action that caused an involuntarily predatory snarl from Lucius throat, "is that not an abomination for my kind?" she muttered darkly.

Still holding the length of her tie he gently pulled her away from the door and she had no choice but to allow him to lead her into what ever devilish seduction he had planned. Practically giddy at the anticipation and the steady movement of his long fingers stroking the silk. Eventually he had her in the centre of the room. He could already detect arousal in his lioness. Now she was compliant and willing. Salazar's toenails, he thought, how can she expect me to stay away when I have sampled her but not fully consumed her?

"It does not look out of place on you, dearest," he whispered as his fingers fiddled between the buttons on her school blouse. Crisp, clean, usually neatly worn even in its awry state. Did she not realise how erotic she was? The feel of his gloved fingers on her flesh made her suck her breath over her teeth. With a flash he managed to smoothly undo her blouse keeping the tie and collar in place. The tie lay between her now hard breasts – the black lace brazier a symbol of the innocence he knew she no longer possessed.

"Arousal in your eyes, Hermione, incites me to..." he sighed.

Glancing between her and the door Hermione cursed her inability to control the situation, it made her mad that Lucius Malfoy was the cause of the turmoil between her body and mind. Hating also her curiosity as she realised he was waiting for her to speak. Closing her eyes with a small sigh Hermione sighed: "Incites you to, what?"

Cool as ice, Lucius tugged her forward with her tie. Grabbed her legs and pushed them up to his hips. He sat her on a desk. Supporting her weight by squeezing her buttocks, rolling the cheeks with his leathered hands. "To ravish you completely, my dear," he snarled as he nipped her neck and chewed the flesh for what seemed like forever. Despite the pain Hermione found herself hissing, whimpering, holding onto him. Thigh muscles quivered against his still trouser clad legs.

"Why?" was all she could say.

"I will show you one day," he repeated the nipping and chewing on her ear. "Besides," he growled as he felt the heated flesh of the young woman pressed against his body: "I actually managed to view that film you mentioned."

Taking advantage of her mouth, parted in shock, the Nazi Bastard grinned. Running the tip of his tongue over his dry lips. Hermione's own reflected the action as her eyes stayed magnetised to that same crocodilian smirk he had on their first love making. Harshly, Lucius crushed his lips to hers. Immediately dominating her tongue by not allowing it to play. Slytherin's evil hex, he thought, thoroughly tasting her, she was a little eager for someone who wanted to run away. Soon, her tongue leapt up and tried to duel. Forcefully, Lucius kept pushing her tongue down every time it rose to battle: "No, this time I'm the one having the fun," he grunted inside her mouth as he pushed her forward on his groin, "you are driving me to complete destruction!" Moaning as she felt the hardening of her nipples with the the vibration of his voice inside her mouth: "My tongue, my body, my _Wand_ ," he lay particular emphasis on wand by grinding his hips against her waist – putting pressure on the flesh of her bum with tweaks and nips. The desk rocked beneath them as their frottaging was vehemently played out on its surface.

Gasping over his shoulder as Hermione had weakened completely against his muscular hips that she had ogled whilst he swam in the lake with her. "H-how did you g-get to w-wa... Oh yes!" she bent her head back as his hands travelled further up her spine: "oooo um, Lu-Luci- oh bloody hell!" her legs shuddered as she felt the now familiar rush of a minor orgasm sending her into that high she was sure only Lucius could achieve. Clutching onto his shoulders. Now her lips were on his ear.

Chuckling, Lucius nipped and sucked her ear lobe. Incoherent mumblings were his reward as she rested her chin on his broad shoulder. Delighted with her responsive sounds and willing, _oh so willing_ , body: "I disguised myself as a muggle with the use of glamours and bad teeth," he now yanked her hair back to expose his beloved throat. The delectable throat that he adored to mar with his teeth: "your mother saw to the teeth and then she mentioned her beautiful, bright, clever, talented daughter."

Hermione's blood would have frozen that Malfoy knew where her parents worked if he was not currently popping her black laced bra open. Leaving the bra on so her stimuli could be furthered by having two different fabrics coursing along her breasts as his fingers flicked and pinched her nipples to get the hardness he desired. "I asked her what your interests were," his mouth was now swallowing her throat. Hermione mewed slightly: "she said you liked films – so I asked for your favourites?" Closing her eyes as she now found herself completely limp in his arms – her legs spread. "I said that I had not watched them and she laughed," now his head lowered to the valley of her breasts where her new tie was still settled like a little snake of a river amongst the hills: "Well, I had to go back – so I asked if I could borrow some of the films and your charming mother said I could." That low rumbling voice whispered against her flesh, the purring timbre sending a wave down to her panties: "then I went to a Hotel where they had a video player."

"Oh! sweet Sabrina," Hermione hissed as his lips landed against her belly button, what was it about that area that she enjoyed being kissed so much.

"Needless to say I did not care for the – what were they – Disney? I found them puerile to say the least," now his hands left her breasts – grazing up and down her sides and hips before raising her slightly longer skirt up to above her waist. Arching her back to allow him to gain full control, "but the one you quoted," he now raised his eyes up to see a flushed, undone, wanton Hermione Granger – eyes so darkened with lust Lucius smirked as her head fell forwards. Her unruly hair draped along her arms and shoulders now shining with sweat: "Robin Hood," he pulled her legs further apart. "Prince of Thieves." Salivating as her arousal had sent signals to his member and it jolted in his trousers: "I can understand why you would care for that one."

Before now, Hermione's hands had been on him but now they were gripping on the edge of the desk – with great difficulty as the sweat made them slip and slide. "Especially the Sheriff – but then," pressing a hot, lingering kiss near her sex Lucius knew she must be biting her lip in anticipation for more forbidden acts: "I got jealous," he kissed the other leg but nipped it slightly. Squealing, Hermione raised her hips in response: "Because, you see," Lucius raised his hand to cup her jaw and Hermione turned to kiss his palm. "He did remind me so much of Severus."

Rising from his position he hooked his fingers around the elastic waistband of matching black lace panties. Lifting her hips to help him as he slipped them down the legs and saw her throbbing folds: "How can my body betray me?" she finally found her voice to construct a question. "How can it like your touch?"

"Because," Lucius said taking her hand up to his lips and sucked on her thumb. "This is not a cold coupling – this involves lust," he pulled her hand down his body. Circling it around his also aroused nipples, "you _may_ have been harbouring a secret crush for me."

"Over my dead body!" she snarled as she tried to tug her hand away as she realised where it was now going, down towards his _wand_. "I want to go!"

"No you don't Hermione," he said. With his gloved hand he rubbed her more than willing channel. Hissing again, Hermione grappled for some sanity within her telling her that it was just hormones. That her body was newly sexualised and would respond to any man if it was touched right but she could not justify that statement. "Still in denial, Hermione?"

"Can you blame me?"

"I suppose not," he said as he again used the tie to pull her towards him: "I hope this clarifies things for you?" Snaking his hand around her neck, covering the back of her head, buried in her frizzy curls. Softly, he pressed his lips against hers – tingles shuddered through to her toes as she panted a little, with her lips parted Lucius sucked a little on her lower lip, swelling it's tender flesh. Humming with pleasure, Hermione opened her mouth wider as his tongue licked her gum. Slackening her jaw Hermione widened so he could enter. Enter he did as his tongue flicked around the roof of her mouth, "Hermione," he murmured inside, "undo my trousers."

It was a simple command, by now she was just too relaxed to care what was going to happen as her fingers slipped the dragon hide belt. Then, with now trembling hands, Hermione popped the button at the top. Heart pounding in her chest, excited sensations in her belly, Hermione slowly slid down the zip, tentatively stroking down his now familiar length: "I still don't understand?" she whispered as she saw his boxers tent more, "I thought you thought I was ugly?"

"Ugly?" Lucius questioned as he watched her curious hand take his Wand. "I do not react like this to ugliness, Hermione. When I saw you swimming, wet – your young muscles take the challenge with ease," he groaned as her stroking became more confident: "I knew I wanted you – _all_ of you – for myself."

"Does this really hurt?"

"Your nipples, Hermione, how hard and how painful – seeking succour to their agony?"

"I suppose that is ten times worse because of all the..." she could not finish her sentence as he growled so loudly that Hermione glanced at the door again.

"No one can hear us, Hermione," he groaned as his eyelids fluttered as her other hand began exploring his now aching member, "Merlin, Hermione, don't … stop ..." gazing up at him Hermione noticed how he was so calm. In her hands he was not the big bad (rumoured) Death Eater.

"I am doing something right, Lucius?" she whispered warmly.

"Gods Witch," he hissed she sandwiched the hardened shaft in-between her small, delicate hands. "Even Na... wow!" resisting the urge to giggle at the normally clever, sharp witted, silver tongued Lucius Malfoy hissing 'wow!' because of her gave her a slightly giddy taste of power. She could literally hurt him most here and now. Literally use it to her advantage but she could not. That was not whom she was: "Free me, Hermione. Free me!"

A slight flutter of panic rose within her body and her heart sped ever faster at the thought that she was commando and soon he was going to be. There was no backing down now. Not that she had a choice when he was near her lately. Somehow he had woven a curse between them making it impossible to not want him buried deep within her to his hilt. Slamming into her harshly as he grunted in her ear.

Tentatively, Hermione stroked around his hips before hooking her thumbs into the band and tugged them down impatiently. Not slowly, the way he did with her, but with eagerness as she witnessed the little soldier stand to attention as air hit it: "I-I do that t-to you?"

"Yes, Hermione," he said in such a serious voice that Hermione glanced up through her now extremely bushy hair, "do you think I would have lowered myself to use Muggle technology for anyone?"

Bristling a little Hermione was about to protest but Lucius covered her mouth with his before she released a passionate string of vitriol which, he may have found a turn on. He was aching enough as it was for freedom from his shackles of lust he held towards this impossible but intriguing Gryffindor Princess. Purring against his tongue as he allowed hers to duel properly with his as they battled for victory – neither one backing down: "Have you told anyone?" he panted.

"No," she said in a haze. A technical truth. Draco mentioned it, not her, and Sev- Professor Snape – worked it out from her questions and Draco's narrative. "No, I haven't!"

"Good lioness!" he whispered, "eventually, we may be able to tell some people." Eventually? How long was she to be his Mistress for? "I think I want you all the time," he whispered against her naval. "I could introduce you to so many forms of pleasure, Hermione," murmuring as he rubbed the loose cups of her bra up and blew on her nipples before sucking on one: "Lust is almost as strong as love," he bounced it's twin with his other hand as she felt her legs spread ever wider. Feeling the tumicid head against her now welcoming core. Lucius grabbed the back of her head using her hair to pull it back as he slowly slipped the Wand up and down her folds. Whimpering, Hermione had tears in her eyes as she knew – just knew, this Wizard needed her. Somehow, this did not feel fake or – wrong? Gods! The thickening member had now entered into her. Lucius used his leather clad hands and fingers to send tornadoes of pleasure pulsing within as he cupped her buttocks with his other hand – he lifted her up so he could push her down onto his balls. "There. Are. Some. Things. You. Need. Not. Analyse!" he grunted with each word. Slamming her against his sacs – was it possible, Hermione mewled in beauteous pain as he thrust her against the cabinets in the room as he felt her possessive, sweet sex squeeze and pulse around him. Encouraging him to spear deeper into her – a wet, guttural sound left her throat. "Like. That. Do. You?" hips rocking as her legs criss-crossed against his back pushing him further into her.

"Yes!" she hissed. "Oh Yes!"

"I want you to love it, Hermione," he slowly slipped out, affording some rest. Tilting her throat up he kissed and sucked underneath her chin. When Hermione looked down upon him with the wild, hot, look of ecstasy Lucius pressed his lips to hers. Drawing in the heat of her warm mouth into his. Sucking a little on her tongue, "now," he sounded demure! Jerking her hips and angling his – he found the position. Massaging his fingers over her slippery petals – as he liked to call them. Flicking the swollen clit between thumb and forefinger. He was gentry, after all, and this was not a Knockturn Alley Whore he was dealing with but Hermione Granger. His new Mistress! She needed just as much attention as he did. Another deep gasp from the stomach as she felt it clench. When he felt her nub he increased the pressure and rubbed, pinched, flicked, and squeezed it in varying degrees of pressure. Wracking sobs was his delicious reward as he pulled further out. Lulling her in a sense of false security. Lucius knew she knew his little trick but he loved playing with her. Loved having her hanging on with trepidation. Screwing partially clothed was sexier, he sometimes felt, than if she were completely naked. "I hope," he whispered. "You will love this!"

Again pulling her head back using her bushy hair Lucius positioned her back so she was at an awkward angle but, there was no choice, and he did not want to risk using magic to transfigure a desk into a bed: "Please," she sighed, reaching out with her fingers and curled them around his collars. "Please, Lucius."

Small, diminutive, powerless – how he loved to conquer! Pulling her knees he saw her raw, pulsing, glistening sex against her freshly grown curls and then he leaned down and filled her to the hilt once again causing her to throw her head and arch her back at the same time: "SWEET SABRINA!" she screamed. "OH! LUCIUS!"

"Loved that, did you not?" he grinned as he finally removed his gloves for a better grip on her hips. Digging his nails into her supple flesh: "Now," he stroked down her belly. Pulling her onto him again he felt her walls clench tightly to his Wand squeezing him. "Again?"

"Oh, Hecate in Hell, yes again and harder!"

Arching his eyebrow at her inventive language. Clearly, even in the throes of passion, Miss Granger did not like to be coarse: "As you wish, my dear," he purred.

He did so again. And again. And again. Obeying her cries of harder and faster each time he pumped in and out. Only he was her support but he was getting pleasure. Hissing his breath over his teeth as her incoherence showed she was no longer capable of pleading with him. Instinct took over. Harder. Faster. So hot. Willing. Begging. This girl was the best of the best. The only words she could moan out as he watched her breasts jiggle enthusiastically. Orgasm after orgasm – not allowing her to ride out a single one. "This. Is. It!" she managed to groan out in such a feral snarl Lucius looked down at the most glorious sight. Below him lay a semi naked mass of sweat and limbs. Hermione had no care in the world why this was happening. It just was! "Circe's Knockers!" she yelled as he used his hands to pin her down with his strong arms before repeating the action.

"So you do use the odd crudity?" he grunted in her ear. Hermione's hands were rubbing down his chest before he laid across her body. The fabric on her body, the cool whisper with the hot breath along with his cologne almost made her faint.

"I-I-I!" she stuttered as he stroked down her entire body. Leaning into his questing, soft touch. Arching her hips off the surface taking more of the little Wizard. "Breasts! Now!"

Smirking he dipped his head and suckled each nipple, biting and circling his lips against the puckered flesh. He still held her arms to her side so she could not control his actions. The sucking became harsher – he pinched the nipples between his teeth moving back with it clamped to his mouth. Only releasing when she let out an audible hiss. Then he began to swallow the breasts further into his hungry mouth. Tasting her sweat mingled with her light sweet violet perfume. Hermione's head was thrown back with fluttering eyelids. Chewing her lower lip as if copying his actions. Her legs quavered around him. The trail of hair fell down her back. Wow! Dizzy! Good! Feel! Oh! More! "Twist my nipples around your teeth," she demanded hoarsely.

Chewing one Lucius noticed how she was in her primal state and sighed before twisting one with his teeth and tongue: "Like that, lioness?"

"Ohh mmmm," she sighed, "more!"

What a dark little thing you really are, Lucius sighed. If not for your unfortunate parentage you would have been an excellent Slytherin my dear. How could he not do anything but oblige. She was only supported now by the edge of the work top and Lucius arms. The blond did everything she wanted without questioning. Oh yes. That's it. More. "Love that, do you?" He did not really expect an answer and was not provided with one."Oh, of course you do." Lucius murmured as his hands cupped and squeezed her buttocks. Peach soft sweaty flesh now so pliant he could have flipped her over. Not this one! This was his Mistress and he did treat his Mistresses with dignity. As long as he gained pleasure of course and she was making him...: "What was it you called me after the first time?" Now he used his naked fingers to squeeze her clit as harshly as he did her nipples. A muffled whimper was her response: "Ah yes," he languidly stroked her folds before reaching her increasingly sore, throbbing, red raw nub: "that is it," he toyed with it for awhile making her cry and shudder, whimper and groan. Goosebumps formed on her legs and arms: "Bastard!" he hissed as he pinched it so hard she clenched her legs around his back. Dug her nails into his buttocks, pulling him into her, causing her to purr as he thrust so deeply into her that she thought his _Wand_ was growing spindles inside and taking over her entire body. Nothing satisfied her before – even her most sensual dreams: "Maybe I _am_ a bastard," he nipped her belly button sucking on it afterwards, "then again," he thrust into her again. Clamping tighter against his rock hard wood she felt the pulsing take over and he pounded more into her – he was currently obsessed with her screaming his name. Taking her for everything she had. "I think that is what you like about me," Lucius looked down at the now quivering wreck that was Hermione. "I know it is a cliché but maybe," he purred; "You are the sweet serene good girl," his hand was now resting on a cupboard door inches above Hermione's head and one of her arms flailed up and arched around to touch his fingers. "You like big, dark, malicious men?"

"Yes! Yes, I do. I like malicious men! I love Slytherin Seed!" now the sound from her throat was husky and guttural. "Fill me! Pump me! SCREW ME NOW!"

Throwing his own head back he rolled his hips revelling in the pressure her shoe heels were putting on his back as her vagina clamped his little Wizard, urging it to perform one more spell inside. Panting heavily himself Lucius knew he had made the right choice. Neither wanted to give in first. Neither wanted to lose control. Hermione was trying her damnedest to make sure she would not come and he was having to work extra hard to make sure she did before his sceptre snapped. Blanking out from rocking through her core as she rolled and pushed her pulsing sex down onto his sacs.

Squeezing around his shaft so tightly Hermione realised she could not do this forever otherwise she'd black out and she did not want to be lost as she did not know where she was: "Gods, Lucius!" she hissed. "I want..."

"Tell me, lioness."

"I WANT TO COME NOW!"

Grunting with acknowledgement he slid down her but only to make a succession of short, quick, hurried but oh so delicious lunges into her soul. Her throbbing core had now soaked him completely: "I want you, Hermione, I get what I want – do you hear me?"

"Yes," she hissed lifting her entire lower body keeping her head on the surface he had put her on. "Oh yes, and I do. I so do!"

"Say it again, Hermione, what do you want?"

"I want to come!"

"Then," he snarled, "do not hold back!"

Moaning, Hermione pushed him, buried him within her for what seemed like the thousandth time making him growl with her name as she purred out his. So, tight! "So tight!" he groaned, "tight, tight, very tight!" rolling his head back. Jerking forward Lucius' head buzzed at the sounds she was making from her throat – his beloved throat: "wet, tight – Hermione. Hermione, tight for me?"

"For you!" she exclaimed. "Hard for me, Lucius – oh, oh, oh, oh -" her toes curled within her shoes as she puffed and panted. Dizzy with passion and overtaken by instinctual lust, Hermione finally screamed out his name in jerking, shuddering, quivering, wet mass of frizz and limbs. Temporarily blinded as her orgasm met his with such passion. One howling cry of joy escaped his lips as he poured more seed into her.

Collapsing on top of her, Hermione loosened her grip on his body. Laying there in each other's arms. Her fingers stroking his hair as Lucius licked rivulets of sweat between her breasts. "You can never be rid of me, Hermione," he whispered as he nipped either side of her mounds. "Never!"

"I-I-I-I-I," she sighed as she enjoyed the contented feeling of the afterglow of sex more so, it hurt less and made her feel desirable. He had used Muggle technology for her. Surely that meant something? "I do not suppose I would let myself be rid of you."

Climbing up her body Lucius captured her lips in soft, tender kisses. Licking between the closed lips to encourage her to open her mouth which she did more than willing in the orgasmic haze that surrounded her brain and the genuine joy she now took in feeling his mouth caress and seduce hers. There was no battle for dominance in this kiss. Just man and woman enjoying the love they currently felt. Arching her head up to deepen the kiss inside his mouth Hermione murmured his name as he did hers. Gently, he laid her down on the floor keeping his hands on her thighs. Now on the floor Lucius continued to dot all her exposed flesh with searing hot kisses with both lips and eyelashes, preparing her for another round. This time, he grinned, completely naked. Soft toffee turned to warm caramel as his kisses were beginning to take affect once more.

Lucius was now wondering what it would be like with her on top – arching over him – pinching and squeezing her breasts and nipples with her sweet, talented fingers as her lower lip engorged by how often she sucked it over her teeth. So many little things he was beginning to adore about her. Covering her body completely with his, their hair curtaining their profiles from view as she raised her knees and spread wide.

"Ready now?" he purred.

Demurely, Hermione smiled and nodded: "Yes," she whispered. "Not so harsh this time."

If the blond had been paying attention he would have seen the door open. One moment of distraction would have made him turn around to school his features. However, he was on the floor, trousers at his ankles. A pair of lithe delicious legs wrapped around the broad masculine hips. Small, but now assured hands, spread on his back. It would only take one floor board to creak but the intruder did not decide to do that. The intruder took in the scent in the air. The voyeur had picked up on discarded items of clothing. The one who came in to interrupt round 4 glided surreptitiously to the somewhat in flagrante delicto Wizard.

With a sneer, the silken scorn dripped down on the pre-coital couple, with one word: "Lucius..."

* * *

A/N: I do hope you realise I am not JKR. LOL! This chapter is to really spring forward this unorthodox relationship. **Next chapter warning** : Involves violent rape! Story important but quite detailed. I just wanted to give you all a heads up.


	5. Bitch

**AN:** JK Rowling invented this marvellous world. We're the sadists who messed it up! Mereditch Brooks one hit wonder Bitch - was the inspiration for this chapter. Vino Amore helped make this chapter good.

 **Chapter Trigger** : Rape!

* * *

 **Under the surface**

I'm a bitch, I'm a lover **  
**I'm a child, I'm a mother **  
**I'm a sinner, I'm a saint **  
**I do not feel ashamed **  
**I'm your hell, I'm your dream **  
**I'm nothing in between **  
**You know you wouldn't want it any other way (Meredith Brooks) **  
**

 **Bitch**

Unashamedly Lucius turned his head to view his friend. Making sure the face of his lover was concealed by their equally long hair and rolled his eyes: "If you know what is good for you, Severus, you would walk out now." Professor Snape wished he could see more of the girl other than a pair of admittedly delicious limbs wrapped around Malfoy's waist. Lucius tilted his head and looked at Severus as if saying: Off you slink you black mamba! He held the girl tightly to him – hiding her further from view.

Snape sneered: "Why should I?" the salacious tone was not lost on Lucius who narrowed his eyes further, "I've watched before, you know."

"This is different, Severus," Lucius hissed – the tone, the act of possessiveness in the powerful blond was nothing short of astounding. This was a Mistress the blond did not intend to share. Pity, Severus sighed, those legs could launch a thousand ships. "You really do know how to kill the mood, don't you Snape?"

"I may remind you I am a teacher and that the girl is clearly a student."

Scoffing Lucius shook his head silently laughing: "Oh, don't you _dare_ try to fob me off with that duty of care crap, Severus," Lucius eyes grew colder suddenly. "What are you going to do?" the tone would have sent shivers down a lesser Wizard but Severus remind stoic. "Run to that old fool you respect so much?"

Snape tilted his head and brought his wand out: "Go, Lucius," the dour man said in tones to match. "I have some nasty curses in mind that could break that pretty face of yours."

Snape wondered at the silence of the girl, why was she not struggling out and away from Lucius arms? Moaning to show some semblance of communication was his only clue that she was alive. Did she not _want_ to be rescued? What woman does not want to be rescued from Lucius Malfoy? Pansy? No, Lucius could not stand her. Then there were a few older Slytherin, even Ravenclaw, Witches that would not say no to him being their illicit paramour.

"Hollow threats, Severus," Lucius said. "Are you going to leave?"

Sitting on the nearest desk Severus threw off his outer robe letting it land at his feet. He then proceeded to undo his seemingly never ending line of buttons of his frock coat and shrugged that off. Revealing his crisp white drawstring tunic which was gaping rakishly open and smirked down at Lucius. "They say it is not a party unless there are more than two people," he said. "If this girl is good enough for the great and all powerful Lucius Malfoy she most certainly would be entertainment indeed," Lucius snarled at him. Interesting indeed. "After all," Severus leaned down with his arms folded across his chest tilting his head at an angle to determine some distinguishing features. Now he got an idea. Only one student in all his teaching history had hair like that. Hiding his feelings of revulsion towards the elder Malfoy, he turned to Lucius fully: "One would not want your position on the Board to be compromised, now, would one?"

Lucius growled: "Uncultured primordial slime!"

"I try, Lucius," the raven haired Wizard said with faux indifference. "Please get out of here before I do decide to notify the _Meddler_ about this," Severus examined his short – potion stained nails. "So, please, release Miss Granger before the cretinous Potter and the dunderhead Weasley catch you."

"Think I am afraid of those two brats?"

Smiling enigmatically Severus tipped his head. "No," he whispered silkily, "but I doubt you would want to be a Werewolf, would you?" He would have no compunction in telling Lupin about this. If Black got wind all the better! One less Death Eater to worry about and Draco may have a chance to become a better human. "I went to school with one," he hissed, "twice!"

"Is that another base threat, Severus?"

"Do you want to find out, Lucius?"

"Turn around then," the blond sighed.

Severus did turn around and Lucius left Hermione's body – helping her up. Both hurriedly trying to right themselves as quickly as possible. Though Hermione had to ask Lucius to clasp her bra back together. A sentence Snape wished he could un-hear. "Damn," Hermione whispered trying to find something else.

"We're decent," Lucius said and Snape turned around and noticed how Hermione looked and the colour of her tie. "She is to keep the tie that colour, Severus," he said picking up his snake's head cane arching an eyebrow. As far as Lucius was concerned there was nothing amiss. "Round four will definitely be in a luxurious bed, Hermione," Lucius winked.

No! Hermione groaned. You know you can have me with less than a sigh. He was about to walk towards her for another kiss but Severus blocked his path.

"There will be no round 4," Severus whispered.

Sneering at the raven haired Professor he looked at Hermione. With Severus in the room she was avoiding his gaze. Casually leaning against the cabinets with her arms folded. Pushing up her delicious breasts accentuating her delightful cleavage. "Severus," Lucius sighed as if he was addressing a younger brother rather than a Wizard who was infinitely more powerful than he ever would be, "sometimes," the hint of mischief present in his eyes: "I wonder if you would have been more suited to Gryffindor. You seem to prefer their women," he winked at Hermione. I forbid you to buckle, knees! "Do not deny it, I was there remember, I saw how you looked at her when she stopped mayhem breaking out everywhere."

Hermione tried not to react to this: "Miss Granger is my student. Insufferable. Takes pride in being a know-it-all."

Chuckling violently, Lucius shoulders rocked with the movement as tears fell from the corner of his left eye: "Oh Severus," it turned into a giggle, "I am sure you have heard of the phrase: Takes one to know one." Fixing his eyes on the sallow man Lucius grinned: "Come on, Severus, you are a man," he sighed, "look at her and then turn around and gaze into my eyes and then tell me you would have no interest in her plentiful charms?" When Severus jaw stiffened Lucius knew he had struck gold: "Do it, Severus, then I will leave."

Slowly, Severus turned around and regarded Hermione truly with a man's eyes rather than the way a teacher would. With a smirk Severus slunk up to Hermione and cupped her jaw, curling his long fingers around half of her face. Gazing deeply into her eyes she stood straighter, dropped her arms to her sides. With his other hand he stroked some of her brush hair from her face. At one point Hermione thought her heart was about to stop beating as Severus traced her neck. This was erotic. Somehow, knowing Lucius was watching turned her on even more. What was wrong with her? What had Lucius done to her?

Severus pulled her forward and suddenly she found Lucius standing behind her stroking through her hair. Massaging her shoulders and using a long digit to trace down her spine. All levels of WRONG flashed through Hermione's mind as these two deliciously dangerous men stroked and caressed every inch of her body. Dry throat. Kiss me someone.

"Well?" Lucius sighed as he swept aside her hair and planted a tender hot kiss just below her ear. "Try it, Severus, kiss her. I dare you." Oh Merlin! Hermione shifted position. Suddenly, Professor Snape was Severus Snape. A beautiful, hot, sexy desirable man. "Kiss her mouth whilst I massage her shoulders which she loves so much, do you not, dearest?"

"Ah huh," was all she could utter parting her parched throbbing lips as Severus tilted his head.

"Would you like Severus to kiss you, sweet lioness?"

"Yes," she whispered darkly. "Dear Gods yes!" That deep throated plea was making Severus growl from deep within his throat as he almost closed the inches between them.

"That's it, dearest," Lucius purred, "show Severus what he is missing." Those normally arctic eyes turned subtropical with desire for this little Witch between them. Severus desperately wanted to. Truth be told, if she was an older student, he probably would and his lips were aching. Hurting. "That's it," Lucius murmured with his hand he angled Hermione's head more so the kiss would assuredly happen. Using his snakes cane now to draw circles around her back. "Good girl, kiss Severus." Those keen, intelligent eyes, melted with absolute lust as did Severus really dark eyes. Suddenly, Severus did not know what it was, but he remembered he was in Hogwarts. Not in a dark location they would normally go to for similar acts. "Go on, Severus, taste her?"

So tempting, Severus sighed, ready and willing. Then his eyes rested on the Slytherin tie. The way that Hermione was manoeuvred. Bile rose to Severus throat. His gut twisted in self-loathing. The manipulative blond stood over the girl through half-lidded lust as he stroked and tendered her. Severus groaned out his despair. Painfully, Severus took several steps back and regained his composure with lightning speed. He had almost kissed a student! He hated himself. Through gritted teeth he yanked the girl away from the tall Slytherin and pulled her behind him as she too woken from her hot desire for her Professor. It was going to be awfully embarrassing in the near future.

Pulling his wand on Lucius the dark man with a pure heart growled: "Go, Lucius."

"Can I at least kiss my lover goodbye?"

Turning his head around Severus smiled at the look Hermione shot Lucius: "I think she would rather kill than kiss you at the moment," he leered. "Do I have to ask again?"

"Till next we meet, Hermione, where once again I taste your lust so sweet."

Tutting in disgust Hermione turned her head trying to find a patch of damp more interesting than Lucius Malfoy's urbane leer. The leer that, for some inexplicable reason, had her falling into his arms. "There won't be a next time," she said coldly.

"There will be," Lucius persisted. "Believe me, after that – I plan on there being many more next times."

It was then he finally walked out of the door. " _Clostellum_ ," (lock) Snape muttered with a slight flick of his wand at the door. " _Mihi_ ,"(to me) With a flourish directed towards Hermione. She found herself involuntarily moving towards Snape. Fear in her eyes as she had no control over her legs. Then, he levitated a chair which landed with a thud behind her, the edge catching on the back of her knees forcing her to sit. " _Incipio_ ," (speak) he hissed pushing his face close to hers. The remnants of the almost kiss still thick between them.

Gulping Hermione tried to fight the charm but was unable to. Dark, almost violet eyes bored into hers: "Well," she sighed trying to keep her eyes on his, "what could I do? I could not see him, like before with his own patented spells I presume," her sneering tone matched his for sarcasm. She was starting down the path of self-loathing. "I was on my way out after patching Draco up with Madam Pomfrey," she looked at him softly through her eyelashes. Don't Hermione, he thought, I am a man and you are not exactly unwelcome in my respect as my crotch can provide evidence for. "All I could sense was the aroma of his cologne and the feel of his hands. He dragged me off here and then," she shrugged, "he began talking," she lowered her eyes, "I forgot to run. I lost willpower to fight," she gazed into Snape's eyes, "then he touched me. Kissed me."

"I do not need the details," he sighed. "How did he lead you into seduction this time?"

"Thought you did not want details?"

"Only the start," Snape sighed, "please."

"He looked at my tie and said that it would not do and turned it from Gryffindor to Slytherin – after that he pulled me gently forwards by the tie," Severus wanted to slap her for being so un-Gryffindor in all this. Not the first time, Severus. Be patient with her. "I am sorry, Sir," she burst into tears. "I hate it. I hate that _he_ was the one that has opened this door to me."

Lean closer, Severus. The dark side of him whispered. Go on, Severus. Smell her hair. Stroke her cheek. Wipe those soft tears from her warm eyes. "Can you change the tie back, Professor?" she asked him in such a small voice Severus knelt down on the floor and cupped her hands in his like before. "Please?"

Not that voice, Miss Granger. I do not want you to be vulnerable. You can _not_ be vulnerable: "I am sorry, Miss Granger," he sighed, "this is one of Lucius' own charms and he does not share them out."

"How am I supposed to get back to the Gryffindor common room with a Slytherin tie?"

"I will get you there safely, Miss Granger," Snape said.

It was now when Hermione dared to glance into his eyes. Merlin without his robes he was so sexy! No, focus, Granger. One inappropriate lover is trouble. Two would be a death warrant. All she wanted was to hug him. "Why does Sirius hate you so much?" she asked. "I am sure if you showed this side of yours..."

Sniggering a little Hermione pouted at his reaction: "You have no idea how you kind you are," he said, "you want everyone to be friends."

"Why can we not be?" she lowered her eyes again. "Draco was actually nice to me when away from his peers. I would have come straight back to class but he wanted me there. I sang to him you know."

"What did you sing?"

"You won't have heard of it."

"Because I am a Slytherin or because I hang upside down in my dungeons before you all return?" he smirked.

Finally, Hermione giggled at the joke: "No, because you may not like the performer or style of music."

"Try me," Snape edged in closer and his hand was now settled on her thigh. Not an unpleasant sensation, Hermione thought. "Go on?"

"Alice Cooper's Poison."

"I do know the song, and I used to listen to Alice Cooper a lot in my youth."

"You did?" her eyes widened with new found respect.

"I would have thought you were an Osmonds fan?"

Much to Snape's delight, Hermione shuddered with cold at the insult: "Call me an insufferable know-it-all, by all means," she sighed, "but do _not_ call me a Donny Osmond fan again."

Chuckling Severus could not help but cup her soft peach like cheek with this declaration: "Why do you like Alice Cooper?"

"A muggle friend of mine loved that kind of music," Hermione blushed, "we promised to get married when we were grown up – a silly childhood promise that – over this summer I wished could have come true. He is so smart and clever," she realised she was rambling. "Sorry, sir."

"What does he look like this Muggle friend?"

"Do you really need the answer?"

"Please."

"Taller than Harry – shoulder length black hair that is so soft to touch, he refuses to cut it. He wears black – even in blazing summer heat, when I smell leather I think of him," she blushed, "his eyes are dark, and his arms comforting. I kissed him in front of Lucius," Hermione groaned, "oh and rather ironically, his name is Steven Snape."

Irony indeed, Severus sighed. To think this girl knew a Snape. He wondered if that was why she demanded his approval all the time. "Do your imbecile friends know you grew up with another Snape?"

"No," Hermione's lips twisted in a little smile. "I think Harry may go on another rant if he did."

Smiling at Hermione Severus was now closer – his hand further up her leg. If either were conscious of this fact, neither showed it. "Definitely hope for you, yet," he murmured. It was only when she found herself leaning in. Please, just kiss me. Her body seemed to beg for his touch. Hermione looked down. Coughing she used her eyes to convey to the teacher where his hand was.

Blushing, which would have shocked Hermione before but not now, Severus removed it from her person: "Deepest apologies," he mumbled.

Hermione was about to reassure him but then she recalled what Lucius had said during their long bout of rutting. "No!" Snape witnessed the blood drain from her face, "No!" she finally stood up kicking the chair out from her and started pacing the classroom. "NO!" she yelled. "No, please, no oh please no, no, no!" with each no she was becoming more hysterical in tone and erratic in gestures. Severus wondered how the mood changed so suddenly. "NO!" she screamed. "Please, no!"

"Miss Granger," Severus walked up to the pacing, terrified girl. "Miss Granger, what is it?"

"Lucius Malfoy," she said, "he – he – he – he," now she was trembling. Quivering with undisguised fear, "no, no – he – he – no!" her head rolled into her hands. "If they're … they're … Gods, I – I – I can't breathe – no, no, no!"

Eventually, Snape took Hermione's biceps in his hands and shook her forcefully but not so she would be hurt. Only to rattle the hysteria out of her: "Miss Granger," he murmured. "What. Is. It?"

Groaning and clutching onto her stomach Hermione sank on her knees: "I was so stupid!" she cried. "Caught in that web of lust he weaves around me," she started to sob. Severus decided to bend down to her. A comforting hand squeezed her shoulder and she looked through sodden eyes: "Lucius Malfoy knows where my parents work. More than likely where I live."

Ice took over Snape's heart at this – it was bad enough he had visited her over the holiday but now another student could be orphaned. Not to mention the fledgling Muggleborns near her. "We need to tell Dumbledore."

"No," Hermione said worried, "no, he'll know," she looked in Severus' eyes. "Please, do not tell Dumbledore. If Lucius finds out my parents would be used as leverage?"

"We have to tell someone, Hermione," he said. The dire situation warranted her given name.

"Who'd believe me, Sir?" she whispered clutching onto his tunic so tightly her knuckles were white. "I can't."

Stroking her face and hair Severus tilted Hermione's face up: "I cannot let you fight this by yourself, Hermione, you need to trust someone else with this information. Now," he said, "I can only do so much but you are going to have to tell another member of staff."

"I don't want my parents hurt."

"Of course you do not," he said. "Come on, Hermione, if your parents were being hurt would they want you to know?"

"No, they would keep it secret from me, so I would not worry."

"Your parents," Snape sighed stroking down her neck. "what do they know about your time here?"

"They know teachers names," she sighed, "they know the names of the houses," she shivered – it had suddenly become cold. Watching her shiver Severus whisked his robe with a Wandless levitating spell. Almost paternally he wrapped it around Hermione's slight

shoulders. "They know I have friends called Ron and Harry. They met them and have a bet on which one I am going to marry," she smiled ruefully. "They don't know anything else."

"So they do not know you risk death every year for said friends?"

Shrugging her shoulders Hermione was emotionally overwhelmed and leant close to Snape. Reaching around his waist she hugged him close to her. He knew he should extricate the Witch from his person but her fragile emotional state was gripping his heart and he had no choice but wrap his arms around her keeping her settled within his embrace.

"No," she said. "They think I make up tales of a racist dark Wizard to make this world more exciting than dentistry," she sniffed in his scent. Fresh grass was there somewhere. Immediately, relaxing into his reluctant embrace Hermione shuddered out a quiet sob: "Who can I tell?"

"Good girl," he sighed. Gods Lily, he thought swallowing down the lump in his throat, why could she not be our daughter. "If you refuse to tell Dumbledore," he sighed. Not that I blame you. "You need to tell a woman."

"Molly would hate me," she sniffed.

"That is whom you should tell," he sighed. "Though Molly and I are not on speaking terms, so," he continued, "think of someone else," Severus did this deliberately so she would come to the conclusion he had the moment she told him first time. "Miss Granger, there is someone else who would help you."

"Professor McGonagall."

"Yes," he said stepping up helping her with him. "Miss Granger," he said hating to slip into teacher mode now she had hugged him so fiercely. Wept on him. Told him her fears. Confided in him. Him! The scourge of Gryffindors. Like he would understand. Trouble was, he did! "I need to get redressed and I suggest you straighten yourself up. We are telling McGonagall tonight."

"You do not think she will tell..."

"Professor McGonagall has nothing but the highest respect for you, Miss Granger. Whatever your wishes in this regard she will comply with."

Hermione picked up her school bag and fished out her robes and jumper: "That bastard," she muttered.

"What?"

"He managed to change my robes and jumper to Slytherin colours he may as well have put a sign on my back telling people to kick me!"

"All right," he said. "You have spares?"

"Only two sets," she sighed.

"Take the tie off besides you looking more distressed should provide verisimilitude..."

"To an otherwise bold and unsuspecting tale?"

"Gilbert and Sullivan as well?"

"I think you will find I am more than capable of having eclectic tastes in all matters, Sir," she smiled cheekily. Hermione ripped the tie off and stuffed it in her bag. "How I am going to explain this to Parvati and Lavender I have no idea."

"Explain what?"

"I must have missed two lessons and dinner – the last time that happened I got attacked by a mountain troll."

"Details are still bothering me on that one."

"Would it affect the points if I told you now?"

"Only you, in an emotional crisis, can think of something banal like house points."

"If they are that _banal_ why do you take great pleasure in taking them from us?"

Instead of answering Snape arched an eyebrow. Whatever had happened to this girl over Summer aside from Lucius Malfoy and the World Cup, he was certain it must have been something else, certainly added an extra edge to her layers that he liked. Last year, Miss Granger would never dare question him. Long may this continue, he sighed warmly.

"Because it is the only rare pleasure I do get," he said with a wink.

No, don't wink at me. Not while I am still a seething ball of emotions and hormones. "I still would like to know where they went."

"Where what went?"

Reddening Hermione did not feel like disclosing that Lucius Malfoy had stolen, not only a pair of bikini bottoms, but now her black lacy knickers. "Nothing," she mumbled.

"What are you going to do if he tries this again?"

"I don't know," she said sadly. "He manages to leave it just enough time to make me think he has had enough then he does this," Professor Snape also righted his robes back and he was severe again. Hermione could not believe how hot he was under them though and now she had a body to match to the voice. She wondered why her body had it in for her. "Professor, are you sure there is no potion that could counteract Lucius Malfoy."

"Sorry but Malfoys are rather stubborn it comes from centuries of inbreeding."

"Crack one more witticism like that I may just start liking you, sir."

"That is wrong, why?" he leaned in.

Water! Need water! "Um it is the _way_ I might like you, sir," she smiled innocently from beneath coy lashes.

This shocked Professor Snape. Staggered him slightly so he swayed. No pupil – even when he was 0ne – had a crush on him and here was this Gryffindor girl who had been claimed by Lucius Malfoy and she all but confessed she did. The hug. That was what he did wrong.

"Yes," he said, "that would be rather inappropriate, would it not?"

Melting where she stood she placed her bag strap across her body – unfortunately highlighting the shape of her breasts more. "Oh, I heard what Neville and Harry did. Pansy was not happy – I wish Colin was on hand to take pictures."

"I got touched by it too but I did not ingest, thank goodness."

"Though if you had not insisted I go with Draco that might have been prevented."

"No insufferable know all is going to tell me when I am wrong," he unlocked the door and opened it – allowing Hermione to walk out first, "even when I am."

Giggling Hermione waited for Snape to lead the way as she did not know where she was still. "So, how did you find me?"

Suddenly something furry wiped against her legs – Hermione felt stiff wondering if it was Mrs Norris. "This is how," she witnessed Snape bend down stroking something and she heard purring. Picking the cat up he placed it in Hermione's arms: "Yours, I believe."

"Crooky!" she sighed snuggling her cheek into her cat's fur. "Oh Crooky."

"Yes, the cat seemed to know something was wrong and sought me out, I don't know why. It likes Black."

"Crookshanks is part Kneazle," Hermione kissed the cat, "it senses the right person to trust, he knew Black was not the traitor you wanted him to be."

"But I believe he tried to kill the real one."

"Yeah, unfortunately, Ron would not let his scaggy rat be murdered."

Professor Snape resisted the urge to place a hand on the small of her back. Right now, he felt he met the girl on equal terms. It would be hard to go back to seeing her otherwise. He would have to though, next potions class he would have to be mean – spiteful – rotten to her. "Life's a bitch," he muttered.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," the Professor sighed. Round another corner and they would be back in view. Hermione found herself being violently turned in a dark shadowy alcove by her teacher: "Look, you probably have every reason to distrust me, maybe in the future you will have more than enough evidence to hate me," he closed his eyes and sighed, "contrary to popular belief there are some students I wish I could favour over..." he suddenly found himself cut off by Hermione's hand.

"I understand, it hurts, but I get it," she whispered. "You are Head of Slytherin. Tom Riddle's Ancestor. Children of Death Eaters are watching you – one slip up and on Tom's inevitable return you could be..." she physically shuddered in his grip. How could she be so reasonable? "The meaner you are the more loyal to your House you are."

"How...?" he began suddenly wanting to kiss her but that would make him just as bad, if not worse, than Lucius Malfoy. At least Lucius was not a Teacher entrusted with her care.

"I do not hate you, Sir, I thought we had established that?"

"Yes but..."

"Is it so hard for you to really believe someone _actually_ respects you, Sir?"

All the time, he sighed. Pretty students never do and you are proving yourself beyond beautiful. "Potter hates me."

"You hate him."

"Not all of him," Snape replied enigmatically leaving Hermione to puzzle that one over.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was not one easily flapped. Most certainly not one to go into a wild fuss. But to say she found Severus Snape supporting a very dazed, messy Hermione Granger at her door was quite a thing and she looked like she was catching flies. Immediately she whipped up tea and a seemingly never ending plate of fried egg sandwiches as that is what Hermione said she craved at the moment. No wonder, Severus sighed, Lucius Malfoy can help a Witch lose weight just by looking at her.

"Now, what unusual circumstances bring this to my door?" she asked sitting behind her desk, fixing her glasses to her nose. "Or have you two settled some differences?"

"Yes and no," Severus sighed. "This is Her... Miss Granger's story to tell."

Pursing her lips in either amusement, or displeasure, neither knew which; Minerva turned to Hermione who was on her third cup of earl grey. Snape noted with pride that she did not have any milk with it. She even insisted on lemon slices to twist. A proper Witch, he sighed. If only I was a book seller or... no, it would still be wrong.

Awkwardly, Hermione began her story from her now stupid idea to go swimming before the Quidditch cup – almost confessing to her sports obsessed Mistress that she, in fact, was not a genuine fan of the sport. What Lucius Malfoy did to her and then promised there would be another time. She then began her tale of what happened in the Park. Of two promising students who were going to arrive in six to seven years time and how Lucius, in broad daylight, felt her up. To today. Of course, Hermione stinted on the actual pornographic detail but then – she sobbed. Also, Snape noted with ever growing respect, she left out that Lucius seemed to seducing her to kiss him.

"What else, child?" Minerva tried to sound restrained but Severus knew that the old cat was hissing inside. "Please tell."

"H-He k-knows w-where m-my p-parents w-work, P-Professor, a-and I-I'm s-scared," Hermione stammered through her tears. "H-he w-was t-there w-when S-Stephanie a-and J-Jolyon d-displayed th-their m-magic a-and h-he c-could h-harm m-my o-old f-friend!"

Minerva was about to offer a handkerchief but Severus was there first. Opening her mouth wide as she witnessed the man who had been the source of many a Gryffindor's tears in the years he had been teaching, dabbing away the girls sobs. Softly whispered things to her to help stabilise her emotions. "She does not want anyone else to find out," he told Minerva. "Please, I know you and Albus are thick as thieves but it took me some time to get her to calm down to come to you."

Nodding Minerva agreed: "So, why do you think Lucius has taken an interest in Miss Granger?"

Shrugging his shoulders Snape turned to the sobbing girl beside him. Tilting his head with a glint in his eye: Come on, Minerva, she is the best. Has the potential to be more powerful than Dumbledore if she fell into the wrong group. So small. So precious. Minerva glanced at the look in Severus' eyes and closed her own and shook her head. Why could this man not fall in love with someone he could actually have?

"Is it true?" Hermione said so quietly that it stung the silence.

"Is what true?" Minerva asked.

"Is what Lucius said about the Time-Turner true?" Hermione's voice rose a little but not much – at least it had become steadier now.

Rubbing her forehead Minerva sighed: "Yes," she finally confessed. "We did warn you there would be..."

"Why was I not told of the specifics?"

"Albus felt that..."

"Figures," Snape muttered. "Do not defend him on this one, Minerva. She has suffered now because Albus is _always_ right and _so_ wise!" he sneered so viciously that Hermione turned her head and gaped. "Look at what this has done!" Snape roared flinging his chair back. Causing Hermione to hiccough. "AT LEAST FIRST TIME AROUND I MANAGED TO STOP IT!"

"Severus Snape calm down, sit down, and shut up!" Minerva said sternly. "We all know Lucius Malfoy, even as a student as young as 13," her eyes glittered with hatred for the blond Wizard. "had a propensity to deflower the first girl he could grab his hands on!" With an exasperated sigh, Minerva continued: "If I had a galleon for the amount of times I caught him with a girl I would have retired by now!" Snape's fingers curled on the surface of cat's desk and growled at her. "He has _always_ prized out the best so of course it would only have been a matter of time before he weaved his charm on Miss Granger." Hermione thought in their intense staring contest they had forgotten she was there. "Three years ago it was a Ravenclaw half-blood. Before that it was a Hufflepuff for crying out loud," the Transfiguration Professor stood up to her full height. Challenging Severus to do the same. "Miss Granger is of age – he is right," her hands palm flat on the desk. "If he signed the order for the time turner to be released we can say it was sometime he had marked her out as his next choice. Where and when did not matter, BUT – it proves he has been planning. He is a Slytherin."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Severus snarled. "Are we going back to that again?"

"You know bloody well that I am not inferring you to be like Lucius and back to what?"

Watching the heated exchange made Hermione feel uncomfortable – it was like watching an Uncle you love arguing with your Grandmother. "If I have to elaborate clearly you still don't believe me."

"Of course I believe you – then and now – sit down, Severus."

"Professors," Hermione sighed. "What do _I_ do?"

Both turned to the girl. Shock written on both their faces as they realised that they had probably said too much in front of the wrong person. Immediately Severus sat back, trying not to fuss over Hermione but it was so labour intensive to be cold all the time when all he wanted to do, right now, was lock the poor woman in a tower and never let her see the light of day until this stupid war is over. Minerva shuffled some parchment on her desk hiding her own discomfort and gazed at Hermione: "Be wary – any sight – any suspicion that Lucius is near you then steel yourself, latch onto the nearest student you find. Walk tall and..."

"Ignore him?" Snape muttered. "That is not going to work, Minerva, the man – as you say – is a Slytherin and he has already performed, for want of a better word. So we should instead be teaching her ways to protect herself if he becomes violent or extremely possessive over her."

"You think he might want me long enough to be possessive?" Hermione's eyes widened to saucers scared of that prospect.

"Already he has watched some of your favourite films. Met your parents under a glamour. Knows that other muggleborns are within your vicinity. Following you around. Yes," Snape said, "he will."

"A-are there Death Eaters in Canada?"

"Death Eaters are everywhere," Minerva answered sadly. "Where there are Wizarding Schools there are people that have succumbed to You-Know-Who's thumb."

"Steven," Hermione sobbed again.

The Professors watched her for awhile and then Hermione finished a fourth cup of tea: "I had best get to bed," she said, "thank you, Professors, for doing this but I guess I just have to be on guard and allow Lucius to do what he wishes – I cannot give him any reason or fodder to hurt those I love."

She picked up her bag and walked out of McGonagall's office with a gentle sway of her hips and shut the door quietly.

"No," Severus seethed, "I won't let her do that – I can't, Minerva!"

"You have a duty of care Professor Snape," she said, "your efforts are to be concentrated on Mr Potter as you are well aware."

"I would rather her be my priority."

"What we want and what we get are two different things."

"Why?" he demanded and took pleasure in Minerva's blink, "because it would turn the world on its Axis if Severus Snape gets one little thing he wants, would it not?" he uttered venomously as he strode out of the office slamming the door shut.

Oh Severus, Minerva sighed, you cannot beat yourself up over that forever. I know it hurt you to say that word but you cannot give up all hope of never finding another. If circumstances were different, I would have got you and Hermione to become friends but I cannot. My hands are tied as much as yours are.

* * *

As Hermione was bouncing her way back to her dorms she turned a corner and was within the last stairwell to the Fat Lady who was gossiping with Violet over a cup of tea. Smirking as she was wondering what the two women found so interesting to talk about all day. Just a few steps to bed.

As the Fat Lady turned her head to really glance at Violet. A big hand covered her mouth and a thin but strong arm clamped around her waist. This was not Lucius. Lucius was too cultured to be this gruff. Aside from the beautifully rich cologne that she had come to associate with Lucius, this man smelled of Whiskey and Cigarettes. Gagging at the back of her throat from the stench. Hermione was forcefully dragged back into the darkest shadows for the second time that day – her attacker said nothing. Only grunting with the effort of carrying a kicking 15 (or 17) year old Gryffindor firebrand.

"Shut it," the voice sounded young and would have been a quite nice voice if he was not so gruff. "I can be worse you know."

Tears sprang to her eyes as she felt the hand clasped to her stomach move further down: "So, you have a taste for Darkness do you, Lioness?" the man sneered. "I must admit you are pretty for being one of _them_ ," Hermione wished she could speak. "I think you actually like to have a man rough you up, you little mudblood." Think, Hermione, what can you do? "I would leave go of your mouth if it was guaranteed you would not scream, got that?" Managing to gulp Hermione tried to think of nice calming thoughts. Camping trips in the Forest of Dean with her parents. Driving a hired camper along the entire width of France. The one magical trip to the Black Forest. Hermione squeezed the salt water from her eyes: "Cry, dear, I like it when a woman cries. You are a woman now," she felt lips press against her neck. "Now," she felt the hand crawl from her stomach down to her skirt where she felt fingers hitch her skirt up. "I wonder what you know about sex, Bookworm?" he leered as he harshly pulled her head back. "Hmm, love bites. I only know one Wizard who vehemently forces his mark on a Mistress," the voice sneered against her cheek."How do you know he's the best guide?" here he pressed his hand into her cusp causing her to wince. "Other men exist you know, dear," his fingers crawled further down her crotch where he could prepare her for his growing dick. "How do _you_ know Lucius is not the only one who can help you?"

Not even mumbling she was about to try and elbow the attacker in his ribs. Only he anticipated such an action so he grabbed her arm and twisted it around his waist so she was trapped against his wiry frame. "Oh yeah," the man grinned against her neck as she felt eyes wonder down her heaving breasts. "Dear, you really do have a beautifully formed pair, do you not – I cannot wait to sink my teeth into those juicy babies." This proved it, she thought. Lucius was not raping her. Just showing her what her body was capable of. This man wiggled a finger into her hole and she winced with the pain of enforced intrusion. "Cry, baby, cry for me. I like it when young women cry," he giggled manically as he forced another digit inside her. "I also like it when they scream but I can't risk that – now," he thrust his hips into her back where she felt his growing need. "Give me what I want and cry, my darling," he soothingly whispered in her ear. "Cry!" he grunted as he slammed the third finger into and pumped them in and out of her until the tears were dropping from her eyes as he felt them fall on to his hand. Her vagina was dry as a bone. This was going to hurt her. Hermione wished she could shut down her mind. Clear her heart of emotions. The other, more intimidating, hand actions became more violent and furious as he grunted against her ear: "That's it dear, cry," he groaned, "cry for me. I want you to cry!" his hand still covered her mouth and the tears were beginning to sting her eyes. Not knowing how much longer she was going to last she suddenly felt her body slam against the wall that would hide her from further view. She heard the jangle of a belt and the whisper of trousers drop. Gurgling from the sudden split as he forced her legs jerk wide and pinioned to his waist. Her feet rested on the opposite end of the wall. Fingers were soon replaced with a further much harder intrusion. No, this can't be happening! How could this be happening? No! No! No! But he had managed to keep his hand on her mouth as he thrust harshly into her. Hermione was right, this was such blinding pain! Lucius was soft and gentle. Making sure she was being pleasured. This was nothing but hate being pumped into her.

"Rivers, dear, rivers of tears. Rivers," he hissed as his hips ground further into her ripping her to shreds. "Darkness befits you darling," he groaned as he gripped onto her buttocks pushing her onto his member. Hermione had nothing but hatred left for this man. Who was he, though? The voice was not one of the students in her year. Far too deep for that. Cultured but gruff. Definitely not like Draco's or Lucius or even Professor Snape's. Not that she could envision Snape ever doing this sort of thing. Maybe not even Lucius. He said he preferred them willing.

"Do you feel the pain coursing through your beautiful body, dear?" the voice sneered. There was no way she could grab hold of his hood to find out who he was. "Lucius should not always have the best for himself though," the man then slid her down to the floor scraping her back against the jagged bricks of the castle – she felt blood seep onto her blouse. The remnants of her uniform ruined. Wide blurry eyes could only see a dark shadow that seemed corporeal – once she was on the floor the rape continued as he held her neck with the hand that was on her mouth, "oh no, dear, I still need to see you cry."

Nightmare, she wanted to scream, absolute nightmare. "All right," the voice said dispassionately, "you are now primed and I love the taste of your tears. Lets see if I love the taste of the rest of you, hmm?" with that she felt lips clash horribly against her. Alcoholic ashy breath assaulted her senses. The taste made her feel like she was being kissed by a pub. "Not bad, sweet in a way," he said as he hitched her skirt further up and examined her bleeding sex caused by his rough handling. "Hmm, I love the taste of blood, don't you?" she could almost reach her bag but he had now bound her arms with a Wandless charm – whilst kissing me, she surmised. If that can be called a kiss. "Mmmm," he sighed, she saw a brief flicker of tongue glide across lips – that was all she could see of him before he dipped his head and began to lick the blood from her core. "Delicious, tangy and slightly," he smacked his lips before assaulting her mouth again, "muddy," he sneered as he thrust into her again. Hermione caved in and sobbed. She continued to groan with painful tears as he ground deeper and further into her, gripping onto her thighs – digging her flesh into the cobble stones. There were no Paintings here. No ghosts. No Peeves. Eventually he grunted out his orgasm and grinned down at her. Due to her bloodied state. The tears coursing down her red cheeks and lips turning blue. "Oh, my dear, you look so pretty when your choking on your own tears," he removed himself from her but kept his fingers wrapped around her throat as he managed to pick her up single handed. "Light as a wee feather, too," he smiled. It was the coldest smirk she had ever witnessed. At least, with Snape or Lucius, it held some form of sarcastic humour. "I would Obliviate this from your mind, dear, but I want you to remember – I know you will be too scared of your precious reputation to let it out that you're Malfoy's slut," the man's voice sent shivers down to her toes as she thought she was allowed to be free.

The last thing she remembered was a bone crunching sickening pain. The feel of more blood dripping down the back of her head: "That's for making the prime of Wizard Kind bleed you mudblood slut!" Letting go of her neck allowing her to crumple on the floor. Leaning over her unconscious form he tasted more of her blood then kicked her stomach a few times and punched her in the eye: "Mudblood," he leered. "I will let your blood stain the stones of this school and you will die – like you were supposed to in your first year!"

With that he took a drink from a flask and limped out making sure the coast was clear.

* * *

Minerva was about to go to bed when her office door was once again slammed off its hinges by a very anxious dark haired teenager with bright green eyes. Coming up behind him was his red haired stalwart Ron along with what looked like half of Gryffindor. The entire Quidditch team. Their friends. Miss Weasley and a few others of her year flanked her side. Parvati and Lavender. Neville. Minerva had a feeling this was going to be one of those nights! Fred and George with their partner in crime, Lee Jordan looking as if he was about to murder someone. It was no secret that Lee also had a little crush on Hermione.

"Where is she?" Harry demanded slamming his fist on McGonagall's desk. "I demand to know."

"Unless you clarify in a calm, respectful manner, I cannot answer, Mr Potter."

"Hermione!" Parvati answered. "She is still missing and we checked the Library."

"We looked in the study area," Neville replied.

"Then we even went down the dungeons," said Fred (or George?) "Hermione is in trouble, we know she is!"

Now the old tabby was concerned. If the twins were cracking with tears there had to be something amiss. "She should be safely tucked in bed," McGonagall sighed, "she was present in my office but she mentioned that she was able to make her way to the Tower safely."

"When?" Ron asked.

"Two hours ago," McGonagall sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose – reminding Harry of Snape. "She should be in bed now."

"Well she isn't!" Lavender exclaimed. "She is hurt – I know she is!"

Though McGonagall preferred to go on instinct, facts and truth than fanciful Divinationary tactics Lavender Brown did seem to know when things were not quite right and Minerva realised that half of the entire house of Gryffindor would not be this fearful without good reason. The fact that they have scoured the school and not a trace worried the Headmistress. Immediately she stepped over to the Floo and threw in the powder: "Pomona Sprout."

"Check," the cheerful gardener confirmed. Head of Hufflepuff was Neville's favourite teacher.

"Come across," Minerva said.

Once Pomona was standing in her full happy glory Neville waved and she signalled to her favourite student. Then Minerva called over Professor Filius Flitwick – the half-goblin Head of Ravenclaw and then Professor Severus Snape. All the Gryffindors wondered why he would care that Hermione was missing. Each one directing dirty looks at him as he elegantly strode through the hearth.

"As you can tell half my house has alerted me to the fact that Hermione Granger has not been seen – they have scoured the parts of the school where they feel she was likely to be," with a concern flittering across all the Heads eyes Snape surreptitiously scanned the crowd. All were there due to her friendship with the Weasley's. Mr Longbottom was trembling. "I suggest you gather the Prefects of your Houses and we will all search for her."

"We're helping!" Harry said his green eyes shining with fiercesome loyalty. "We will form teams!"

As Professor McGonagall was about to object Snape cut in: "As much as I loathe to remotely agree with Mr Potter – the more eyes the better, do you not think?"

"Of course, Professor," Minerva pursed her lips together. Do not let your cover slip in front of the boy, she sighed. "This is a matter of urgency so I can brook no arguments. Very well, no Prefects. We have enough people here to help," she waved her hand at her cubs.

"I will assign my own team, Minerva," Professor Snape smirked. "For my team I require Mr Potter, Mr R Weasley, The Weasley Twins and," he scanned the rest of the assembled Gryffindor's: "Miss Bell and Miss Johnson."

"That's my Quidditch team!" Minerva huffed.

Grinning evilly Snape inclined his head: "I know, Minerva, but due to that dratted contest there is no Quidditch, is there?"

"I don't care what team I am assigned on I just want to find Hermione!" Harry exclaimed. "Can we please get on with it?"

Mr Potter's deep loyalty to his friends was a quality Snape begrudgingly admired. That he felt this way for Hermione made the boy a little more likeable. The other two Heads took their choices and they all spread around the castle. Asking the Paintings, enlisting their help in case they had seen something. Questioning the ghosts though they were all wary of conscripting the Bloody Baron. Though they concluded Hermione's safety was paramount so Harry boldly asked him to keep with the Hogwarts traditions for the brightest student. With a disdainful leer the Ghost moved along. No one bothered to ask Peeves because all thought him a hindrance.

Filch also joined in. Something strange happened to Filch's countenance when he heard Hermione had been missing. Instead of his usual diatribe he hugged Mrs Norris close to him and gulped: "Come on, sweetie," he said to his cat, "let's find Miss Granger."

"What was that about?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged. "I thought he'd look happy."

"Appearances are deceptive, Mr Weasley," Professor Snape sighed as they had taken the Gryffindor quarter of the school. Angela squeaked when she felt the brush of fur against her legs. "Crooky?" Professor Snape asked the cat. This made the twins smirk. "I suggest you hold your humours aside," the Professor said sharply. The ginger fluff ball turned to regard Professor Snape and sauntered over to him.

Ron was waiting with glee for the cat to bite Snape's nose as he would hiss and claw him. Only to be disappointed when Crookshanks wiped his face against Snape's nose in friendly gesture and purr. Then the cat turned around so it's backside was facing everyone then turned his head around as if to say: Follow me.

Snape was the one to get there first to see the sight of devastation she was in. Quickly he turned on his heel and glanced at the sea of concerned faces. Briefly, he wondered, why was I not put in this house? Would my life been better if I had? Don't answer that one! "She is found but severely hurt," he said seriously. "I suggest those of a squeamish disposition walk away now." When no one budged he rolled his eyes: "Do not say I did not warn you."

Tenderly, which caused Harry to narrow his eyes a little, though not out of hatred just curiosity, he observed Professor Snape pick something up. It was only when they all got to the light in the Halls did Professor Snape turn around and show his team what had happened. Ron turned to his brothers to cry between them as they held him between their bodies comforting him. All three pleased Ginny had not seen this. Angela took Harry in hand and she Katie hugged him between them.

"What – what happened?" Katie asked trying not to cry. Only the other day Hermione held her as she had her heart broken by her Seventh Year Ravenclaw partner.

"Brutally attacked but not quite sure of the extent," the Professor sighed. This was not Lucius handiwork. Despite the man's many flaws, of which Lucius refused to accept he had any, he did not rape! He preferred them willing – he found more joy in the act if the female with him was also enjoying it. That answered that question then. When she was well, Professor Snape would inform her but not for a long time. He had a spark of hope that the attacker wiped her memory. "That will be determined later."

Hermione was raped. By whom though. A thunderstorm of steps interrupted their thought. Immediately the Weasley boys ran to protect their little sister but she refused and elbowed her way through the throng and looked upon her best friend before running to Harry and snuggling into him.

"Now we found Miss Granger can you all please return to your dormitory – school continues."

How can he be so unfeeling even with this? Harry scowled at him as he protectively led Ginny. Once all the Gryffindor's had returned to the rooms. Pomona began making a mental list of all the plant extracts, seeds, legumes and leaves her colleague would need to brew for the potions to help Miss Granger. Filius Flitwick protected her with shield charms and levitated her to the hospital wing. Minerva transfigured her robe into a stretcher to support her in. Lagging behind Professor Snape was tearing up at the sight of her crumpled body.

"How can I hate her after this?" he hissed in Minerva's ear.

"You will just have to, Severus," Minerva said warmly squeezing his arm. "Whoever did this will be caught."

"What if..." a lump caught in his throat, "what if she..."

"She won't, Severus. She is too stubborn to die."

Minerva knew words of comfort would be lost on her saturnine colleague. All Severus could do was gaze softly at the woman lying in the hammock – bleeding, pale, limp and lifeless. Once he caught the bastard that did this there would be no mercy shown!

* * *

The next morning news spread like wildfire that Hermione Granger was found in a pool of her own blood near death. Of course, the gossip mill exaggerated facts. Exacerbating all those who knew the truth of it. Grinding Professor Snape. He was snippier than usual, almost to the point of taking points off his own house! No one could understand why the great git of the dungeons acted the way he did. Like he cared for a fourth year Gryffindor. The only person who seemed to be physically crying over it was Neville who fainted when he saw Hermione in that state. Others were just angry. Not just those of Gryffindor either. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were huddled in groups together discussing how to avenge this attack. Some Slytherins even joined in wondering if this was the start of another fatal attacks on students. Somehow even a much recovered Pansy could not find it in her heart to be mean. Scared to death it might actually land her in more trouble with the Weaslette when the redhead cursed her after she heard a snide comment about how she probably deserved it.

Meanwhile, above the hullabaloo of whispering theories sat Severus Snape in the Headmaster's office.

"Well?" Severus snapped to Albus.

"What, Severus?"

"I assume we are going to deal with this one on our own discretion and not involve the boy wonder?"

"Harry is her friend, in many ways, her brother," Albus sighed. "Though, yes, I suppose this one should be left to the staff but," this last word said sternly, "if Mr Potter is going to intervene I am not going to stop him though I promise not to encourage him either."

The Potions Master rolled his eyes: "I cannot involve her son in this, Albus," Snape sighed, "not with what we know..."

"Whether you like it or not – Mr Potter is involved, therefore not to be discouraged in seeking justice for his sister, am I understood?"

Bastard, he grunted to himself, her son – he is HER son! "Yes, Albus," he grunted, "now, what can we do to find the culprit..."

Albus turned to observe the taut features of Severus Snape and the way he muttered. Oh dear, he sighed. It had to have happened again, did it not. Dear boy, you cannot torture yourself over Lily any more than you have. In regards to Miss Granger, I know you find a bit of herself in you. Truly, if she was older, more or less finished with her schooling of course I would turn a blind eye. Only for you! Not now, though, she is too young. Now she is more vulnerable than ever. It was not the first time Albus almost cried over Severus Snape, one whom he held the highest respect. Please be kind to him future, he sighed. Give this bravest of souls someone worthy of his heart. For he does have so much love to offer a lucky woman and he always wants those which he cannot have.

"Stop pitying me Headmaster," Snape grunted. "I have potions to brew for her recovery," the dour man roughly stood up to leave the Headmaster's office.

"Severus," Albus sighed, "I know you find this extremely difficult. I know who you really are." The Headmaster clasped his hands on the desk and leaned forward regarding the stiff form of one whom the Headmaster related to the most. Gods, did Albus know what it was like to love the wrong person: "That loophole is not to be abused, Severus, you cannot fall in love with her."

Grinding his teeth together Severus turned and looked coldly at the Headmaster: "I cannot," he said flatly, "I am sorry, Headmaster, but already my heart is tuned in to her. She is like the best part of Lily and myself, if only she were our daughter," a lump formed in Snape's throat as he fought back the tears threatening to fall. "That young woman is unconscious because of me. Just like Lily is dead because of me. I can help Miss Granger – so I bid you good day, Headmaster."

Sweeping out of the office Albus heard the tread become little more than a whisper, with a flick of his wrist Albus shut the door and heavily sighed. Rubbing his temples and looked up at the past Headmasters of the school: "Is there a precedent for this situation?" he asked.

"That man dares to call himself a Slytherin!" a harsh cold voice broke the oppressive silence.

"A very cunning man who uses any means to achieve his ends, I think he fits Slytherin admirably."

"POPPYCOCK!" Dilys yelled. "That man is more noble and loyal – he should have been a Gryffindor. That Hat made the worst mistake in history by placing that poor lost soul in Slytherin!"

"Thank you, Dilys," Albus smiled.

A smooth cultured voice set to the right of Albus intervened. "I held precedence, Albus," the man said. This was one set in the shadows – there were many after all, and Albus was sometimes shocked himself at the amount of new voices he still had to hear. "I am one of the less vocal of past Headmaster's but my name is Nero D'Malfici – 15th Century – the ancestor of the great Malfoy family."

"Nero," Albus nodded deferentially. "Is there documented evidence of this unusual situation?"

As Nero was about to respond Albus jumped out of his seat by an aggressive female tone that could only belong to one woman: "ALBUS DUMBLEDORE I WILL KILL YOU!"

Turning to his fireplace he saw an irate, ash covered, red haired Witch that, if Albus had to admit to being afraid of anyone – it was the Weasley matriarch. "Mrs Weasley..."

"Don't you Mrs Weasley me, Albus!" the woman's eyes burned with fury. "Where is she?"

"Who my dear?"

"Your feigning innocence act fools me little, Albus," Molly narrowed her eyes. "Where. Is. She?"

"Hospital Wing being taken care of but how..."

Waving several parchments in the air she proceeded with the first: " _Mum, be not unduly concerned but something has happened to Ron's friend, Hermione. He may need some extra chocolates... Percy._ " Thrusting that into Albus hands: " _Mum, we found Hermione bruised, bloodied, hurt and unconscious – Ron is beside himself please come. Fred and George!_ " that one on the lap of Albus moved him more than Percy's missive. " _Mum, I swear I did not do anything. I promise Tom's influence is not on me any more but I've seen Hermione battered and I don't know what to do. I am not sure if it was me. I'm scared. Mum, please, I swear it was not me. I would not hurt Hermione. She's the big sister I always wanted. Harry is so furious and he wants to do nothing but scour the school for the person who has hurt her. It was not me. Ron is in shock. Come, please, mum. Even the twins have not played a prank. Ginny x_ " that one did make Albus tear up a little. It seems the girl has yet to properly recover. "What do you have to say for yourself?" Not only that, Albus noted, but Ginny was the only one who mentioned the affect this was having on his favourite. "WELL?" Molly shouted.

"I can assure you, Molly," Albus said as gently as he possibly could. Voice cracked with emotion at the strength of feeling in Ginny's letter. He would take the young girl aside and chat to her – if anyone can empathise with her over the poisonous influence she carried for an entire year – he could. "Everything is in hand."

"Who found her?" Molly snarled.

"Professor Snape found her with the Twins, Ron, Harry, Angelina and Katie."

"What was Severus reaction?" Molly softened, it seemed she trusted the Slytherin. In truth Molly respected Severus as being the only teacher in the school who managed to keep her twins in some sort of order. Unerringly, never getting them mixed up. "Tell me!" she pointed her wand at Albus chest.

Heavily sighing Albus looked at Molly and sadly shook his head: "He believes everything bad that happens is his fault," he looked up. "So of course he is assigning the blame to himself."

"I want to see her," Molly said.

"Poppy is not allowing anyone to see her," Albus said, "even I am excluded visiting rights."

"Be sure to tell me when she is ready – her mother cannot be here as you well know – so I demand to be told."

Briefly, Albus wondered what sort of Dark Witch Molly would have made. Then again, she was scary enough on the side of the Light. Almost as imperiously as Lucius earlier, Molly exited via Floo. "That woman is remarkable," he chuckled but gazed once more on Ginny's letter, "a word with young Miss Weasley in the next course of days."

* * *

Helpless, Snape sighed, she is so helpless laying there in quiet destruction of her body. There was no doubt in his mind she had been brutally raped. How could he face her and be horrible to her after this experience? How could he be bitter and disgusted whenever she was the one who proved she had actually done her homework when others had not? There was nothing of the vibrant young woman he had grudgingly come to respect. If only you were born 19 years earlier, he sniffed, or I was born 19 years later. Would things be different? Would I have been mercilessly bullied – deep down he knew that was not true. Everything he had witnessed about the Golden Trio, as they had come to be called, were so devoid of anything the Marauders were.

Young Potter would have; at best nodded acknowledgement of his existence, at worst ignored him completely. Mr Weasley would have probably detested him for being a Slytherin but he only attacked when provoked, mostly by Malfoy – something he had to encourage. Then this young woman. Her only pursuit in this school is knowledge. Just as his had been. It annoyed him she blindingly accepted everything in ancient tomes as gospel without questioning their reasoning but she was still bright. Bright enough to be able to steal from him and brew a highly dangerous and illegal potion in her second year certainly. A potion that was not even on the curriculum. The way she treated Neville with calm patience, the way she restored order in his class. Now lying semi unconscious – extremely unruly hair splayed on her pillow as she kept her eyes closed. How could this have happened? Who caused it?

"Severus," a quiet voice said behind him, the man turned – it was Minerva: "you will be of no help to her if you yourself do not get some sleep."

"Yes," he said blankly. "I've placed my own wards on this door, no one will be able to enter but me," he explained. "I will make sure she is recovered before long."

With that he billowed out of the Hospital Wing. Tutting a little and shaking her head Minerva looked through the enchanted stained glass barrier to the private ward. "My dear little cub," she pressed her hand flat against the glass only to have to retreat with a hiss. "Did you have to develop so quickly? Now you have stirred old feelings in Severus," lowering her head Minerva quietly sobbed hugging herself. "My sweet little cub!" she bellowed out her cries – Poppy heard and steered the Transfiguration Mistress into her office.

* * *

All Hermione was aware of in her subconscious state was a nightmare. A nightmare of a hulking corporeal form. One made of velvet. The body solid and thin but strong. A voice that sounded young but vicious. Hands wandering over her body. Unable to scream. Suffocating. Drowning in the darkness as the velvet shadow thrust into her time and again. No hope for salvation. Helpless. Lifeless. Doll like.

Then there was another shadow form. Larger. Silken voice. Tenderest of touches. Warmth emanated from his being. Safe. Secure at last. Picking her up. Caressing her ears with his molten tones. This shadow cared. Loved so deeply. Urging her to survive. Hermione's subconscious seemed to melt. She would. Oh she would survive – for that voice. Live for that touch. Molding her body to his in the most intimate of hugs.

Still another form entered her subconscious. Taller still than the last. Thunder. That is what she associated with this man. Storms. Blond hair struck down her face like lightning. Passion. So much animal intensity. Silk. This one was luxuriously decadent. Wanton in her embrace. Throwing his head back as he entered deep into her. There he found his Paradise. The man brooked no argument. The form wanted her – all of her her. Debating with her to sharpen her intellect. Soft lips to kiss her with. Long manicured hands to caress her skin. Toned muscular body – one who worked out. The man expected perfection. He found her perfect.

Then another figure rose in her dreams – unidentifiable – nothing warm about this one. Nothing velvety, silken or molten about this one. Blood did not course through his body but he survived on darkness. Red eyes caressing her body but it was not tender. Lusty. Or scorn. Rather indifference. This being did not care for anyone or anything. Yet still she felt seductive around him.

Bring me back to the second one, she pleaded. The one of molten tenderness. Volcanic emotions harbouring secretly within. A man who, when he loved, did so with enormous abandon and responsibility. A man who could make her toes curl by just whispering her name. A man, she knew, was wrong to desire. Though she could not help it.

No, please, no!

If anyone was observing her the only sign of inner turmoil that showed were copious beads of sweat dripping from her forehead. Arms peppered with goosebumps. Legs akimbo over the blanket.

Someone was.

Draco had awoken to see Professor McGonagall break down in tears and crept out of his bed to see who was behind the stained glass: He gasped at the sight! Covered in evil purple blotches. Scars that were weeping puss. Hermione was sweating profusely. Eyelids fluttering erratically as her manic hair became nothing more than frizz in her humid sweat as locks stuck to her face and arms. Because he had been in his own state of in and out consciousness the past day or so he had not heard what had happened. He pressed his palm to the door but hissed as it rejected him. Only one person put those protective barriers up. Draco grinned. So, how much of your hatred is real, sir? He inwardly sneered. Then another, more disturbing, thought interrupted his conscious: Was this his father's handiwork?

* * *

The next morning the Daily Prophet Headlines roared out of an attack happening in Hogwarts. A student – unnamed – was found; it reported, raped and battered. We are unable to confirm or deny at this time but the student in question is female. Gryffindor. Fourth Year.

Lucius Malfoy rarely felt his blood run cold. He was certain that he had not raped Hermione, oh come on rag, who are you kidding? He sneered. Her love making was much too passionate and she was all too willing. The memory of her shouting his name in wanton abandon caused the little Wizard to twitch. So someone else had attacked her! He almost thought it could be Severus Snape but he quickly dismissed him. Oddly, Severus was far too moral to rape anyone. Not that Severus would not want to bed Hermione given half a chance. The blond was not foolish, he saw the real Severus glancing at Hermione, she was his type. Mine too, if I had the freedom to marry whom I truly wanted.

This begged the question then: Who else positioned at Hogwarts would? Another Death Eater definitely, but there were no other Death Eaters at the school, aside from Snape. Severus was never really a passionate advocate of Pureblood Supremacy – yet Lucius could not help but trust the man. Could he trust Severus to keep his hands to himself in regards his latest darling? That would have to be answered with time.

Also, Snape's boringly moral code would never allow him to enter into a sexual relationship with a student. The all too serious man also knew better than to steal one whom he, Lucius Malfoy, had marked out as his own. Despite how he felt for the brains of the trio that had plagued his existence since September 1st '91, the fact remained this could work in his favour. For she was no ordinary student, and had already courted public speculation by being friends with the Boy Who Lived To Be A Thorn In His Bum! Still, he smirked, this would be the chance to get rid of that incompetent old buzzard once and for all.

Even the boy wonder would hate Dumbledore if the coot let this one slide. Before he left he checked the date: His mother mentioned she had no idea what to get her daughter for her birthday save some _specialist_ books her daughter needed. Mrs Granger was discreet, he had to credit her with that. Some Muggles he had met through similar tactics who had children in Hogwarts tended to blab too excitedly about how their gifted children were so special. Lucius could almost come to respect Hermione's parents. They were sensible. He also noted the father was older than the mother by more than the usual one to three years. It was the 19th soon.

A nice birthday present for his lover should cheer her up. A book, he smiled – um, no – especially as the last book he gave freely led to him being being attacked by his old Elf. Was she one for dresses? Jewellery? Jewellery, yes. Emerald or Amethyst? Diamonds would be lost on her sweet skin. Something exquisitely cut. Heart shaped Amethyst was safest, silver band, surrounded by blue topaz. Maybe a charmed inscription. Yes, that should cheer her up immensely. He was genuinely worried about her state of being. This was his Mistress – they had a connection. No other woman managed to move so in sync with him the way she did on their first coupling, and she was a virgin. Not even his wife managed to sometimes even now. Still, she was Potter's best friend. Due to that fact Lucius was sure that the boy would be disillusioned with his hero if he failed to act properly.

Tossing the paper aside Lucius walked out of his own Private Breakfast Parlour. Stopped in front of the only muggle thing he had in his house: a non talking mirror. Adjusted his cloak, combed through his hair, and placed that all too confident smirk on his face.

"Albus Dumbledore," he grinned, "your days are numbered!"

* * *

 **AN** : I hope the rape scene was not too squicky. I was uncomfortable writing the scene but, I can assure you, this will be resolved. As you are aware now that this story is definitely AU. I will flip past the year quite fast - skimming over the tasks, as Hermione is the main focus and what happened to her will take precedence. BTW, I adore Molly Weasley...


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